Bearclaw Valley A glimpse of you, a remnant trace

The ache in Aventus' ribcage had, over the past two weeks, faded into nothingness, leaving only stiffness that took several days longer to work out with constant activity. Being immobile for so long had left him with vast reservoirs of energy which he put to good use jogging around Bearclaw day in and day out. When he woke on a cold morning with flurries in the air, there was no pain and no stiffness left. Not even a lasting trace to remember Nyra's attack by. It felt good.

He started his day with an enormous stretch and set out into the valley with a goal in mind. He recalled @Merrick's promise that he would be trained, and now that he was well enough to begin, he tried to think of the wolves his sire had offered up. Astara, of course. He'd already spent some time with his mother with that intent. Merrick had mentioned two others as well: someone named Bishop, whom Aventus did not know, and @Skoll Almir, whom he did.

He wondered if the one-eyed dragon would train him, as well, if he came across his sire. Even now he remained wary of Merrick deep down in his marrow and wasn't sure whether to hope for it or against it.

well bishop had come and gone, and in the churning fights that came often to ursus, merrick had seen fit to place his energies elsewhere. but he had not forgotten the growing rogue, nor how the cold observant light seen in the eyes of the boy reminded him of 
his own, 
and it set merrick in the belief that he must ascend to kingship while aventus found his role as prince. the children left by revui would, he hoped, be gifted the primal mind and cunning strength of their father. and the size of their mother, he supposed; he had found her unremarkable and long had she been dead.
he found the darkened fledgling traveling across bearclaw, and followed him in his silent way until the boy paused or slowed. there merrick would fade in from the treeline, murmuring, "have you been to see the bones yet?"

He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder that; he’d just slowed his pace when Merrick emerged seemingly from nowhere. The sound of his voice was sudden and unexpected; Aventus’ hackles were fully raised before he mastered himself again. His gaze flicked ever so briefly over that single burnished eye before dropping respectfully to his sire’s chest.

He tried to hide it, but he was intrigued; his ears jumped forward at the mention of bones even as he tried to recall if he’d ever been to see them, whether he’d stumbled upon them or been taken by his mother. Since he didn’t know what Merrick was talking about, he had to conclude that he hadn’t ever been. Vainly, he tried to conjure up a likely story for why he’d never seen them, but lying to Merrick… He just couldn’t.

For whatever reason, he felt his life might be in imminent danger if he tried.

No, he replied instead, sneaking a look past his father’s sandy shoulder as if these secret bones would assemble there just for his eyes. If there were bones in Bearclaw Valley, then he clearly didn’t know where to find them.

wc: 193

his rook tended the bones with a feverish devotion he could not replicate in himself. but he could show their son. and so merrick approved of how aventus had reacted to him, and set off at a giddy clip into the wilderness of bearclaw.
he believed that by now the boy would keep pace with him. making no attempt at moderating his pace. it was a wild, headlong run, one that spun between shadows and the long stems of ancient trees, beyond rock faces and across the treacherous field of moss hiding stones ready to snap an ankle if the runner was not careful.
across the vibrant field, now frostwoven in the mornings; merrick slowed, sides lifting as he came to the altar, its tended clearing, the path leading to the bonefield and her own chosen pieces of ivory. "this is your mother's place."

Aventus wasn't expecting the rapid pace his father set, and he wasn't expecting it to be so easy to keep up with him. He was almost surprised at the fluidity and reach of his limbs, which were now long enough that he had no trouble at all following Merrick in his sprint across the territory. Even better, he wasn't as out of breath as he expected to be when the dragon drew to a halt.

His steps were more cautious as he padded along the trail to the bones. She collected them all? he breathed, impressed. From wolves? He didn't know why he drew that conclusion, but somehow, it would be fitting if his mom stored the bones of her conquests as trophies.

"from lots of individuals, i suppose," merrick sighed, thinking affectionately of his raven queen. with a sudden excitement he wondered how aventus' expression might shift if he spoke of new sons, new daughters. new additions to a family that tendriled out through ursus.
tormenting him,
but not now — now merrick motioned toward the set of hipbones. "that is from a wolf." held carefully by the rook, treasured, set here first before the land had been officially claimed, before their children had been born. theirs. how long it had taken the boy king to say theirs.
the single eye glanced at aventus.

Lots of individuals. Maybe wolves, maybe some other animals. Aventus swept the pile with glinting silver eyes, possessed at once with the desire to add to it. He had nothing to give yet. One day, perhaps he would.

Merrick's voice drew him toward cleaned hip bones. Aventus imagined that he still saw a snatch of fur or flesh clinging, as if he could recall the life of the one they'd been taken from. She killed them? he assumed, for how else would one acquire such a thing? Dead bodies could be found anywhere, but Aventus suspected that neither of his parents would be satisfied with scavenged trophies. That would serve for a pup with ambitions, for a time, but not full-grown killers like them.

"some of them. not this one," he said of the pelvis. though of course he did not truly know, merrick had only ever seen his ravenbride touch and hold the bone circlet with the utmost care. reverence. the sort he himelf offered the bears, the blackfeather offered this charnel house.
"what sorts of trophies would you collect?" he purled in more malevolent suggestion. he himself; merrick thought back to the screaming rabbit he had once skinned while breath remained. that would have kept, and a bone from the boy thrown off the cliff. teeth baring in a coldwater grin, he waited for aventus' answer, wondering how their minds might meet on this subject.

Aventus wasn't the sort to give a lot of thought to that kind of thing, so Merrick's question caught him off guard. He didn't have an answer to it. He surveyed the boneyard with a delving glance, searching for the answer amid the most weathered trophies there. When he killed a wolf, what parts of it would he cherish most? What would make his dam most proud? The dragon?

Teeth, he said unhelpfully after a time, remembering the way his jaws had met Astara's and the ringing vibration in his skull on impact. They wouldn't serve for much, he knew, but he thought he might like to take another wolf's weapons and keep them for himself when he defeated them.

warcut ears twitching. "teeth," he repeated, an approving nod lowering his muzzle momentarily. "have you ever taken one while its bearer still lived?" he asked vaguely, affectionately; his mind traveled up and toward the place where he kept the blackblood recollections of skinning alive some creature or another.
"it is an experience any collector of bones must have."
he glanced sidelong toward his son, toward the way the hungry gaze devoured all details in its path. a good way to be, but aventus would always bear the hunger for scarlet the way that his sire and dam desired to tear flesh.
thus, the birthright passed to them both — he was silent, watchful.

Aventus supposed that meant he would need to do it sooner rather than later if he wished to impress his father. He tongued one of his canines in thought. I will, he assured Merrick. It might take him some time to find a victim from whom to steal a tooth, but eventually he would.

A part of him believed that he would never be able to live up to his parents' legacy. Unlike Avicus, he was not single-mindedly interested in death; in truth, he thought his sister was a little dull in the head, and he thought he was too intelligent by far to be anything like her. Still, she was the picture of what their parents expected, while Aventus felt he fell short by not obsessing over blood and flesh the way they all did.

He would need to prove himself in his own way, someday.