Bearclaw Valley let the light in

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ancelin obeyed, a delighted automaton. tail to nosetip they encircled athens, ensorceled him with the promise of a ripped throat and a shallow grave if he turned a single toe out of line now.
it seemed his queen forgave, or at least gave its appearance. ancelin did not, but spoke nothing against ameline's decree. 
he wanted some proof of loyalty. some show of blood shed or scars received on behalf of the bearclaws. he saw them; there was evidence before ancelin, and yet he wanted to reject because he had not seen.
athens could have received those wounds anywhere.
ancelin wanted to see a dead coyote.
after all, if such a pack lurked, the girls were in danger. and if this pack truly existed, athens would have no problem earning his way back in with proof. after all, he was back. "coyotes respond to symbols. death. their heads rotting on the borders, that sort of thing," he said with casual control, alluding, alluding.