Bearclaw Valley goodness is eternally difficult

God touched him.

God touched him.

Aventus was too little to really subscribe to any notions of grandeur, but when Merrick reached toward him, he went as still as possible. He expected the pinch of teeth or the hot wash of rancid breath over his face; he wasn't sure why he expected that, only that he'd made the association somewhere in his brain that Merrick was a punisher. Instead, the tip of his sire's nose bumped him lightly, and then the dragon was gone.

Aventus laid there a while, trying his very best—with his limited thinking capabilities—to comprehend the meaning of the gesture, coming eventually to the very simplified conclusion that dragons, while wrathful, were capable of mercy if their subjects behaved in just the right fashion, and he must've done something right.