Bearclaw Valley A glimpse of you, a remnant trace

Lots of individuals. Maybe wolves, maybe some other animals. Aventus swept the pile with glinting silver eyes, possessed at once with the desire to add to it. He had nothing to give yet. One day, perhaps he would.

Merrick's voice drew him toward cleaned hip bones. Aventus imagined that he still saw a snatch of fur or flesh clinging, as if he could recall the life of the one they'd been taken from. She killed them? he assumed, for how else would one acquire such a thing? Dead bodies could be found anywhere, but Aventus suspected that neither of his parents would be satisfied with scavenged trophies. That would serve for a pup with ambitions, for a time, but not full-grown killers like them.