Bearclaw Valley [intruder] pack, pack, kill, kill

from the blackbird's lips a great goblet of blood ran, the taste metallic and bringing forth memories of great violence. indra. the child merrick tormented so.

and now, evien.

she could think of no finer initiation than one strove by blood; here lies shisu's idiot child, killed
here lies evien's past life, killed
now comes the scarlet path, forward forever -- evien and ursus until they were bled of the same vein. eternal.


but he was reeling -- drunk, no doubt, by the astounding power that was one's first adrenaline rush after a kill. his eye was pulpy, matted by gristle and a steady stream of thin liquid -- a grim look for a fresh killer.

astara considered lunging then for the woman and grabbing her by the skull. seizing her and shaking until her brain turned to liquid pulp, battered around in her bones until it seeped out of her ears and eyes -- until she was torn and shredded to an unidentifiable grease spot -- but evien came to his senses and began to drag the body forth.

astara had no intentions of giving this trespasser a respectful burial. she grabbed a leg and snapped it with a brutal shake, and then another -- until the wolf's limbs were disfigured and bent in ways that were viscerally uncomfortable for the unwhetted appetite to behold. it was only then that astara began to help drag the corpse -- but to no hole.

no, this woman would be propped against the stones that marked their borders; her skeleton left to greet those that might enter their sanctum, and ward those that might trespass away.

a sigil that demarked not the gates of hell, but the indomitable reign of ursus.