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

Aventus knew Skoll from having met him once before, and from the altercation with Nyra, but Bishop wasn’t a name he’d heard before. If Bishop was half as imposing as Skoll could be, despite his gaunt figure, then that would suit Aventus just fine. His quicksilver eyes lit with excitement, which turned to mischief when Astara was mentioned.

Good, he murmured, fixing his muzzle over his slim forelegs. The smell of stoat blood prompted him to lash his tongue across his ankle, tasting it anew. Astara was a wolf of average proportions at best, but her ferocity was unmatched even among the Ursus ilk.

He was tired again. He only realized it when his eyes fluttered open; when had he closed them? They danced up to Merrick’s red ear as he stifled a yawn, eager to prove to his father that he was worthy by not falling asleep like some baby, no matter how fervently exhaustion tugged him into its arms.