Bearclaw Valley I roam these halls, search the night, in hopes that I might see
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Ooc — Chelsie
Tactician
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When had he stopped being afraid of his sire, and started respecting him, really respecting him? Aventus didn't know, but he felt the tingling of excitement, and the ever-present reverence, when Merrick looked upon him and decided he would be trained. A proper apprentice to Ursus' god-granted might. He was still a little boy and couldn't stop the wagging of his tail.

Who? he asked immediately, pushing the stoat aside. He was much more interested in the promise of training than food. His ribs protested the movement and he winced in spite of himself. He silently berated himself for it and arranged his face into something more serious and focused, fixing his eyes on Merrick's nose. He couldn't show weakness to the one-eyed dragon. He couldn't make Merrick regret this opportunity.
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