Bearclaw Valley Galant

ah, gentle bears. more than one bear; she knows this. friend, she says, and her mouth curves in the slightest smile as she thinks of Jaylen. perhaps that's who Ashlar means to sing to. but he has not been here for some time—he has been supplanted by the beast that took Evien, and now a darker bear-spirit reigns over Ursus.

once upon a time, a bear-song might have been welcome. now, it seems a foolish risk to take.

she listens to him continue to hum, then repeats it back, though skipping over the parts he has deemed unfitting. why me? Avicus asks—not that she thinks she is unworthy, though her stunted speech would make it seem that way. she wants to know why these particular sounds are attached to her. 

she perceives not in these whimsical sounds but in touch and taste, smell. more earthy, corporeal things. she does not hear music upon thinking of Ashlar but instead thinks of softness, of a homely scent. though he certainly portrays more song than any other creature she has met. . .