Lion Head Mesa And which is to remain unknowable and unremembered

Aventus hadn't thought of Evien in some time, but the distant smell of flowers in the chambers he paced brought the deceased medic to mind. It was both a fond and sorrowful memory. Despite being the bringer of his death via the bear, Aventus had never wanted Evien to die. He was commanded, he still believed, and thus did not blame himself, but still mourned the loss of a great wolf. The man had saved his life. Twice, without his knowing of the first.

What would Evien have done and said in these circumstances? He knew the medic would not balk at a fight with the Saints. The man would be here with them now, if not for the will of the bear. Aventus wished he could channel the levelheadedness of the former advisor and Bruin-leaf and steer his family the correct way, but he was still only a boy. Rage and grief boiled in him and it was all he could do to keep himself from flying off the handle, let alone the others.

Here in unfamiliar lands, among unfamiliar wolves, it was somehow easier to keep his head. He turned a corner in the chambers, unwittingly drawing near the sickbed of one of Akashingo's who had also suffered Nyra's wrath.