Lion Head Mesa she reeled in my sight

Aventus levelled a long look at Merrick, disturbed only by a blink and gentle toss of his head when a yellowjacket flew a little too close to his face. He expected the Bruin-witch to insist on Arielle remaining. It was easier to explain two wolves traving together than one alone, but harder to go unnoticed, and Arielle's talents might be needed here.

Instead, both were given leave to go. Be safe, he bid his father, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and prod his muzzle into the man's scarred cheek. There had never been physical affection between them, only reverence and fear and respect and pride. Why should it start now?

Your mother is dead, she's gone, she would want—

She would want him to remain far from the Saints rather than tempting fate, but she was gone. Aventus had to choose now. He looked at Arielle, features unreadable, and said after a beat, we might as well rest tonight and leave first thing tomorrow. There was more than enough danger ahead without them losing sleep, too.