Silvertip Mountain I don’t see how he can ever finish, if he doesn’t begin

There was a small voice in Aves' head that whispered how cruel this was when Val turned his back and disappeared into the dark. The other wolf had confessed to him about the bear that chased him from his family and hunted him; how could they send him into the maw of another bear?

But that voice was the part of Aves that was not a cultist, the part that might have grown to be his entirety if he was not raised in Ursus. Like any other time it whispered to him, it was easily quashed.

He took a seat with his mate and fixed his gaze on the cave mouth. Once, he had fantasized about snaking his arms around her in the dark, heedless of the bear spirit looking on, but knowing Val was in there alone with a bear that might kill him made Aventus feel uneasy about the place. Could he actually turn on Val if he failed? He will do well, he said, unsure if he was trying to convince Arielle or himself.

Himself. Of course. Arielle was twice the devotee he was, she always had been.