SALT . The Frostblown Merchants, open

[teef]

  -- bones crushing between powerful jaws, the boar's squeal ringing in his ears as he broke it's neck with a bite from his jaws, the corpse hanging from his jaws as he moved to bring the body back to the orphanage, for hungrydogs at the very least. padding along, he could pick up the scents of the merchants, though it didn't matter that much to him. all that truly mattered to him was getting the food back to the other, and calling it a day but there were borders and he was the only one around to defend them. laying his catch down under a tree, he would cover it with a thin layer of leaves before departing towards the merchants. he had been tailing their scent along the faintly marked borders - he would have to remark them. there were children here and they ought to be protected, not that these two could be that dangerous. he hadn't caught whiff of an intruding party with them.

this was of interest though, the female direwolf that accompanied the dark coated big feline, her colorations stark and of interest to the gray and blue dire. seeing her reach for her sword and grip it between her jaws, he couldn't help but cackle as he emerged from the trees, "put your toothpick away, valkyrie.", he didn't have many interactions with the vikings outside of conflict and combat in his past life, but he knew a valkyrie when he saw one. the scent of milk clung to her pelt, his nose twitching as he approached, his own polearm within his den though he wore his daggers. these forests were as dangerous as any other place, with predators as big as himself or bigger within the woods' hold. licking his lips, he chuckled as he gazed over the poor travelers, "you carry goods - are you here to trade? if you have food, keep it high. we have meat-eaters in these lands.", he growled, circling in closer to circuit the merchant and valkyrie. he had been itching for a fight, having been too peaceful for too long.

she was his size, she was on edge too. maybe he should push her buttons, irk her, get her to fight somehow. as said in her words, she had called him a warrior, and he could tell that she too was one. the scars making pathways through the red hues in her pelt, she had her own years, two sets of large wings resting upon her back, the smaller pair opening slowly as he circled them. he wasn't interested in her aside for her combat ability. there was a tone of guilt in his mind, feeling sorrow momentarily for wishing to fight a nursing mother but she was giving him the signal that she was ready to fight him should he make a move. good - she was coolheaded but wary of the strange opponent. pulling back a bit, he gave a lopsided grin, "until my groupmates come, would you mind exchanging blows, duckie?", he grinned at her bristle at his comment, cackling as she stared at him, "it shouldn't be too long now.", he would croon, tail flicking. ah, he might get in shit for this but he was bored and there was nothing to do here.

SHOW ME YOUR BEAUTIFUL ANGER
-- speaks in #03254C -- the mad dog