Bearclaw Valley axehandle

The scent was familiar. Following Merrick from the shadows was a favourite activity of Aventus', where he could observe his sire's day-to-day business in the interest of conducting himself better as a leader. That was what he was doing initially, but the scent was familiar, driving him to break cover.

He remembered the ferocity of that creature, how it had slashed his mother's muzzle and turned snarling jaws upon them even when its fight was hopeless. He recalled keenly the pungent musk of it, how it had tumbled seemingly out of nowhere. Aventus knew how to best a wolverine.

He prowled around Merrick and the beast, prepared to seize it from behind, just the way Astara had when he was younger.