Bearclaw Valley I roam these halls, search the night, in hopes that I might see

While he lay in the bracing darkness of the medicine den, Aventus thought.

Would @Merrick approve of his decision to act on Nyra’s presumed vulnerability, he wondered? The one-eyed dragon seemed to him a vengeful creature with a sinister agenda, but also a man of words over actions. His son looked to him for guidance, but it was Astara’s savagery he’d wielded that day. Would Merrick be proud of the little beast his son became then and there, or disappointed that Nyra wasn’t treated with more hospitality?

At four months old, even Aventus knew there was a hierarchy in the life of wolves. Even Aventus knew to abide by its laws. He was a young thing still, with plenty of time to develop an ego and test it against the authority of Ursus, as all boys eventually would, but for now, he knew to fall in line. Nyra was flagrant with her disrespect. Was he wrong to mistreat a wolf like that?

He was thinking too much. He wanted to leave this place, melt into the shadows and use those big ears for listening to the pack’s secrets instead of dwelling on his thoughts. But Evien had told him he couldn’t move much. With a gentle huff, Aventus gingerly changed positions so he was lying with his hind legs splayed to the side and draped his chin over a thin arm, sulking.