Wapun Meadow rosewater & bloodstains

fickle merrick, fixed on the livelihood of ursus, on donovan, on the rook and the witch — he had not seen the strain and the break between his son and his daughter.
in his grief he did not see that he alone had stumbled here today, for his raven queen always lurked not far off.
for all his internal blindnesses, merrick was a hunter of wolves, a murderer of his own kind. and so when the familiar hot-blood reek of a stone circle denizen crept across the snowy field toward him, his attention was snapped at once in her direction.
avicus gone and easthollow at his gate. 
the pale woman more than recognizable, for he had grappled with her before. and now the duskhawk shadow of his son stark against the alabaster.
cyclops-stare narrowing and then merrick was flinging himself through the slush of a early snow, coyote-lithe; for her for ursus, this enemy's throat ripped into a wide glittering arc that would splash wapun in scarlet.
bear-king and bear-prince at last come for the fatal communion.