Luneshale Pass looks like there's no more room in hell for me

another voice. 

he whirls, teeth snapping in warning. but then he hears the quiet thud. 

side-stepping, he looms over the still frame that was once beside him. he crouches above, taking a defensive– no, possessive stance.

it is no longer her he wants to toy with, but those that come near. too near. he gives another warning, this time in the form of a low, dangerous growl.