Dawnlark Plains mystification

there's drama with the young wolves, which she's unwittingly caused. she feels as if they'll come to blows, and in an unusual act of cowardice, she chooses not to stick around to see it this day. 

cowardice? or denial?

whatever it is. . .there's the scent of deer on the wind; velvet-antlered youngsters, decrepit does entering their final winters. 

as Avicus leaves the Rise, picking her way down the rocky slope that separates them from the dawnlark plains, she hears a snuffling sound,

whips her head around and sees a young bear, staring at her with beady black eyes set in its dark face. 

Merrick, she remarks, seeing her father in that insolent stare.

she's about to turn her back on this apparition when something like thunder erupts within her head, a brilliant flash of lightning that fades just as quickly into night. 

---

had the blow been direct rather than glancing, it would have killed the red woman.

as it is, mother bear seizes a limp rear leg and begins to drag the unconscious interloper away from the den, a trail of blood left in their wake from a gash upon Avicus's cheek.

she's unceremoniously deposited in the swamp to the south, and by the time anyone thinks to look, others have spirited her away,

away from the Rise, and all she's ever wanted, 

once more thwarted by the Bear.