Bearclaw Valley Because he was a better boy, and more loved by the angels

She felt his gaze on her; it was piercing, and she felt like he could see past her skull and into her mind. She kept her own eyes from meeting his still, and then the piercing stare was gone, focused on the bear once more. 

You don't, he told her. Only the bear knows. Merrick had answered another question in a similar way. She wondered if the bears already knew whether or not she was worthy. She didn't feel worthy and she wondered it was because she wasn't—she dashed the thought away; it would only weaken her focus to entertain such doubt. There was no room for that in her mind. Not now. 

Aves told her of one who strayed. She was marked but spared, committing another to death in her place. He told her more of what the bears expected of them, and Arielle saved the information in her mind.

I'm not afraid, she told him softly. Her tone was neither indignant nor angry. She shared her truth calmly because she really wasn't afraid. Fear had not been what urged her to figure out how to be holy; it didn't push her to prove herself or make herself useful. She simply wanted to belong here. Arielle wanted to be worthy, and she had somehow gotten it in her head that to be so was within her control; Aves had made it clear it was quite the opposite. She could do everything right and still end up like this Evien. But that didn't diminish her determination even a little. If anything, she felt more compelled to prove herself, even knowing now that she could die anyway. I just want to be worthy, she admitted, unsure why she offered up this information to him. It was as though the words came out on their own.