Silvertip Mountain aspersion

Aventus suspected they would present the title to Arielle here and now, but could not have guessed Merrick would call him out specifically for suggesting it. He could feel Arielle's eyes on him when Merrick proclaimed it. Heat crept up the back of his neck and climbed to the tips of his ears. He kept his gaze trained on Merrick, who might sense rather than see the flush of embarrassment in his son. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Arielle had earned this and deserved to be recognized! Yet he was all the same.

The title she proposed was fitting, he thought. Arielle was very much the heart of Ursus, and as dear to Aventus as Evien had been to Merrick and Astara. The two Bearclaws were the cold stone of Ursus, though Merrick infinitely moreso than Aventus, and Arielle was the fire in the hearth to welcome them home. He spared a fleeting thought for how Val might fit among them if he proved strong enough to remain.

He thought to ask where Merrick meant to take them, but glanced sidelong at Arielle and decided to hold his tongue. There was a good chance Merrick himself didn't know where they were going. If Aventus had the opportunity to steer them toward the valley, he would take it. He watched Arielle as she selected Evien's skull, thinking it was also fitting that the new Bruin-heart should bring the former Bruin-leaf home. Aventus knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could not handle carrying his mother's head, so he scooped up the pelvic bone in his jaws, trying to keep his tongue from touching the wizened old surface.

To whom had it belonged? He might never know the truth of that.