Wapun Meadow With big meaningless eyes and tongues like fly paper

He drifted, but he also remained.

Despite his worry and distance, Ashlar refused to depart the pack. The bear and his holding still intrigued the boy and brought to mind the thrill of the challenge, even if that challenge also wore at his spirit. It was an odd mix of hopeful determination and anxious doubt.

When he was called, he thought it was Merrick at first and instinctually winced, the fur along his spine raising with the fear that finally he was to be rousted. But it was not - it was Aventus. The boy who was younger than him yet felt so much more. He was intimidated, but more curious than afraid, and he wondered in what way he would need to prove himself. Last time, it had been the coyote. Ashlar felt his stomach turn at the prospect that perhaps he'd be asked to kill again.

He couldn't. He would fail.

Tail tucked, he stepped into view of Aventus in the lands bordering Ursus. With a breath, he kept his ears upright at least, but there was an air of dread to the way he stood. Last time this had not been something fortunate for him, and he could not help but imagine how much worse this one could be as well.