Scare Valley

The Ravine. Zagan didn’t know what ‘the ravine’ was, but he assumed it was a territory. Most likely her home, too. A low hum bellowed from his chest- an acknowledgment of her statement, and nothing more. "Polar bears roam our forest and island. We ran off a Mother and her cubs recently... forced them into the Northern sea to drown.” A slow, crooked smirk surfaced at the corners of his lips, a spark of excitement dancing in his gaze as he recalled the pride his father boasted when Zagan and his siblings sent the bear to her death. “She was trying to hunt my Father’s sheep." A short pause. "And my Father. He doesn’t like when others play with his toys- his possessions.” He adds with a casual tilt of his shoulders, shrugging nonchalantly at the notion of killing a threat to appease his Father. It was the Saxe way, and Zagan wasn’t the type to act outside his family’s social norms.

Raid Queen. The name felt familiar, like he’d heard it in passing, or while eavesdropping on his Uncle Rhazien’s political conversations with his Father. “The Raiders.” He muses aloud, to see if she will confirm his knowledge. Aside from their name, Zagan didn’t know much about The Raiders. Oh, wasn’t Aresenn born into that pack when they lived on a pirate ship? Memories of his adoptive Father’s lessons worked their way into his mind- someone named Sparrow, who called themselves the Raid King. A shift in leadership, perhaps? His thoughts circled, but there was little clarity. Maybe he should ask the girl himself.

How’re you planning to get the claws out?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping up toward her, bi-colored eyes refocusing on her face as he watched her examine the bear’s jaw. “Easy.” He says, exuding confidence with a subtle touch of arrogance. Then, he gravitates toward her, to stand in front of the bear’s right front paw. His jaws snake towards his blade, and he unsheathes it with ease. The obsidian shimmers in the low light, casting a glow that is both ethereal and alarming. In a swift motion, he brings the serrated edge down to the joint that connects the claw to the bone. With a sickening pop, he saws through the connective tissue, ending up with the tip of a severed toe bone with the claw still attached.

He turns to her, gauging her expression, expecting her to boast admiration- or at least, acknowledge his brilliance. But she was occupied with gnawing on the connective tissue around the bear's jaw- a slow, tedious process that would wear her out quickly. "You don't have a blade?" He questions, searching her body for weapons. But she didn't seem to have any.

"Zagan Saxe"