Bearclaw Valley You're on your own

oh, the dawnlight of sweet joy blossoming in ashlar's face. merrick thought;
had he ever been so delighted?
the boy had two memories within his mind that he had twisted over and over, and could at last, he decided, be called positive. there was little sting in them now. the first, the bearclaw prince out-of-doors with indra
she just gave up her breath to you, didn't she?
the muscle beneath merrick's eye twitched.
— romping in the grass and then a man had come. a man who had given something to indra and the boy had taken for himself. her soft voice slightly chastising but warm, and the man looking right upon him with a feral light of approval. 
and the second? admit it chafes you,
little merrick and aunt laurel, and birds for him to chase, how she had watched him, how she had looked after him there and it was the first time and the only time that the bearwolf could remember laurel showing him a kindness.
he turned that memory over in his mind, a piece of foolsgold nostalgia.
"what sort of games?" merrick, returning to himself, his voice cracking audibly as he tried to return himself into the boy's presence.