Bearclaw Valley A glimpse of you, a remnant trace

warcut ears twitching. "teeth," he repeated, an approving nod lowering his muzzle momentarily. "have you ever taken one while its bearer still lived?" he asked vaguely, affectionately; his mind traveled up and toward the place where he kept the blackblood recollections of skinning alive some creature or another.
"it is an experience any collector of bones must have."
he glanced sidelong toward his son, toward the way the hungry gaze devoured all details in its path. a good way to be, but aventus would always bear the hunger for scarlet the way that his sire and dam desired to tear flesh.
thus, the birthright passed to them both — he was silent, watchful.