Silvertip Mountain Most pitbulls are just three shih tzus wearing a trench coat

Aventus kept his features carefully smoothed throughout Arielle’s work, even though it stung something fierce when she pulled his claw off. The most he showed was a glitter of pain in his pale eyes, and then she pressed the moss to his toe and it felt instantly better. He didn’t think even Evien could have done it as quickly or cleanly. She was good at her craft and he admired it.

Perhaps she was right and they weren’t listening to what the bear was telling them. Aventus tried his best, but at times, he was as lost as a little lamb in Merrick’s faith. Being raised with it sometimes wasn’t enough. Maybe they were meant to put this whole affair behind them and move on, but how could they do that? The Saints had murdered Astara in cold blood!

I do not think this place is good for us, he shared. This land is sacred. This was where my father first heard the spirit of the bear. Perhaps it is too sacred for us to live here. That may be why things have gone so wrong lately. He was no seer, hardly even a priest of the bear cult. These things were his father’s realm, not Aventus’. Arielle herself probably knew more than he did. He could never tell a soul that for much of his childhood he had pretended to understand and even now he was unsure if he did, but he knew the truth of it.

If they never came her, Astara might yet live. Asperas and Apophis might yet be with them. Bearclaw Valley had known scarcity, but so far the alternative was a lot worse.