Bearclaw Valley goodness is eternally difficult

A little blot of ink was what Merrick saw, lighter than the shadows contained within, but darker than its female counterpart. Thus far, Aventus' life was an uneventful as they came but for the chaos of his birthday. He would later remember nothing of that event except the imprint of mortal fear on his soul. Forever would his father's scent cause his heart to leap nervously in his chest, for although the memory was inaccessible to his mortal self, a soul never forgot its first trauma.

But Merrick's scent wasn't the cause of Aventus' stirring. A spider had crawled across his foot, tickling the soft pads of a toe as it went, which woke him with a start. His eyesight was the best it could be at his age, that is, he still couldn't see anything that wasn't directly in front of his face, so at first he was disoriented. Eventually, he could make out the pale little spider crawling across the floor as a hazy, moving dot, which he avidly followed with timid steps, oblivious to his father watching him from outside.