Bearclaw Valley my heart is in economy due to this autonomy

he roved his natal land. the bear had a great deal to say, and merrick was eager to be alone, to listen. but he too pined for astara, as he did every moment they were parted. knowing he could hear the sussuration in his soul, even as he sought to pick up her trail, the boy did both. 
his pace was meandering, of course, but directed always inexorably toward the nightshade.
he found her in a place that pulsed once,
twice
in some primal set of buried memories, but astara stole all his addled attention at once as he watched her choose the pedestal.
pelvicbones.
he stepped to her side, brushing against sable pelt; curiosity writhed in his energy, but he was soft, silent, still.