Bearclaw Valley A life of pain is the pain of life, and you can never escape it

While Aventus was completely unaware of Ashlar's inner turmoil, he understood on some level that the other wolf was frustrated by the lack of answers. As a result, he relaxed his posture the moment Ashlar showed proper deference and, apart from a brief flash of his tongue across his teeth, appeared as unruffled as if nothing ever happened. And for a long while, he thought of how better to phrase it.

I earned my place, he said at last, his voice a coarser rumble than before. A gentle reminder that he wasn't exactly in the best of moods, either. Any other day might have seen him treating Ashlar with more tolerance, but he was sore and itchy and still feeling slighted by his sister's challenge. Ashlar's came at a poor time and in poor taste, he felt.

She wants to take it. Not earn it for herself, but steal it. I will not allow that. I either fight, or let her take what she does not deserve. His silver eyes glinted when he glanced at Ashlar again. Perhaps the man didn't even want to hear him out now. It didn't matter. Aventus believed he was in the right, and he didn't need anyone else's affirmation. I did not want to fight, but I earned my place and will not let her take it.

Did that make more sense than his clipped responses from earlier? He hoped it did, but while he was certainly more loquacious than his sibling, he was still not the best at putting words to his feelings and beliefs.