Bearclaw Valley verbena

merrick closed his eye, letting his paws find the familiarity of the land as he listened to ico's velvety little voice. he truly had some force within him, and when the boy's half-shuttered gaze reopened, it was to look with a new affection at the boy. 
"and thirteen is an important number. you're right, completely right." 
could ico be a prophet?
he licked the dry edges of his mouth, suddenly pensive and cunning.
"it does not sound like you fear death," merrick observed vaguely, half-breathless. "i don't either. what do you think is beyond that curtain?"