Bearclaw Valley a chalice of pastel blood

Earp only grunted in response.
He said it so casually, but foxes were crafty. He should know that by know if he hadn't caught the crafty thief by now.
His dark eyes watched for an elusive tuft of quicksilver Merrick so wanted to clutch betwixt his jaws as some prize or other.
Revenge, or just to prove he could, Earp didn't care.

It seems Merrick had his sights ​set upon the perpetrator before himself, as he moved with particular purpose now.
Earp only followed, supposing he was a safety net more than anything -- the bruin-witch should have his glory.
Earp slid from his side to flank the fox. Watching Merrick and for the silver canid.