Bearclaw Valley matthew died in this house

that noise, that terrible noise of grief, echoing through the cold air. jaylen wanted to dig a hole and curl up into it- it broke his heart to hear those sobbing cries. but instead he would search for the source. 

wind blows through brown fur as he follows the noise. frost lays upon his lashes, leathery nose sniffs at the wind as if hoping to catch a scent. but here he finds him, a dark, dark little thing. still feeling caution, hoping he would not further frighten the thing, or prompt it to violence- "what's wrong, little wolf?" comes the deep rumble of the bear's voice, as he stands a few yards back, watching it suffer.