Bearclaw Valley If I was born a blackthorn tree

It was the selfsame reason Aventus would have given, for in Arielle's shoes, he would have done the same thing. He would never let her fight that behemoth of a wolf alone. If he was a little more self-aware, he might realize the hypocrisy behind his frustration. Both of them were so concerned with the other getting hurt that they thought nothing of their own wellbeing. Instead, he sighed, exasperated.

You got hurt, he pointed out, knowing she did not care. She had made that clear already. That is not what I wanted. I wanted you safe. Next time, perhaps he would forbid her from coming along. She would fight it, but it was for the best. Could she not see that he was afraid to lose her, too? He had already lost his mother. His sister had left Ursus long ago. Arielle was all Aventus had besides his father, and Merrick had a death wish all his own. Aventus could not count on the one-eyed dragon to stay alive.

So it was her. Only her.