Bearclaw Valley If I was born a blackthorn tree

Arielle was right. Merrick had suffered so much loss in his life, it was a marvel he went on living himself. Maybe that was the condition for conquering fear. If so, Aventus didn’t know if he wanted to. Losing his mother still hurt. He couldn’t imagine losing Merrick or Arielle, or even Avicus, wherever she was.

That line of thought brought him back to the raid. Arielle smoothed her poultice over his wounds, setting his teeth on edge, but not only because of her ministrations. Why would you endanger yourself like that? he asked at long last, rolling his silver eyes up to see her face.