Bearclaw Valley goodness is eternally difficult

merrick clicked his teeth, a snort of laughter skittering out of his nose. the boy was still now, and the atmosphere was clouded with the purity of a raw, tiny fear.
mollified, merrick withdrew. his fascination remained, his cyclops gaze burning toward the child, but now there was a different sentiment rising in the bearwolf.
he descended a moment later, cupping a paw around aventus' babyfat hindquarters and slowly scooping him closer with a quick flash of a smile. interested. unhurried.