Bearclaw Valley Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves

val held his head at a strange angle, feeling sluice dribble down the side of his face. he kept still.

when arielle sat besides him, his gaze shifted over her. all of them had earned new scars that day -- but he wondered if it was worth it. what if merrick never stopped his limp? what if arielle's brilliant burgundy fur never hid its new weakness?

it occurred to him they did an awful lot for the bear. the bear! the bear! when was the bear ever going to do something for them? give them peace, comfort, love? the things he had experienced early on in life and now was bereft of: did the bear give those too?

i did stupidly. val answered, feeling shame as he thought of their encounter in rivenwood. stryx got hurt because of me - i got hurt, because of me. i should have lead the wolf away, not... gotten caught. he sighed. everyone in ursus had some invisible purpose which pulled upon them like a thick rope knotted around their bellies -- but val had no such tether. val was always out of place. what happened to you guys?