Bearclaw Valley there is nothing you can do for them,

hello, brats. she doesn't know what the greeting means, but he says it with an affection that pleases her. Merrick has warmed to them, eventually, and while she will never worship him quite like her brother, he has earned her favor. but the favor dissipates (at least in the moment) when he shoves them to their feet and onto the greater expanse

grumbling, Avicus zig-zags tiredly away, casting a glance or two back to Astara as she begrudgingly explores. she enters a tall patch of grass and finds herself concealed. a cricket chirps nearby, and she begins to nose around, questing.

it reveals itself with a poorly-timed hop her way. she lowers her muzzle and snaps it up like a russet crocodile, crunching the insect down. it's a far cry from the rich and full taste of red meat, but it's a snack—and she thinks she's found her project for the day. maybe Aventus will join her for snacktime, too.