Bearclaw Valley Because he was a better boy, and more loved by the angels

Aventus kept his crown low in the presence of the bear. The beast took no notice of him, as bears were wont to do, but that didn't mean he could be flagrant in his respect for them. From a distance, they appeared sluggish, lazy, and possibly unintelligent, but Aventus knew better. Not only had Merrick raised him in awe of them, but he had witnessed firsthand the devastation a bear could mete out, and had no intention of offending them enough to wind up on the wrong side of those colossal paws.

He curved one ear in the direction of his approaching packmate, but didn't otherwise acknowledge her until she offered her name. It was as much out of feeling awkward and out of place as it was that his attention was held by the bear. Her quiet voice drew his gaze away from the snacking bruin, and he found himself catching his breath silently at the wash of rusty crimson on the bridge of her muzzle and chest.

Momentarily, he thought it was blood, and loosed a slow exhale when he realized it was just her markings, stark against the charcoal-and-tan of her base coat. The wolves in Aventus' life were primarily dark-pelted and Arielle was no different, but those splashes of colour lit her up in a way not many others could boast. That, or perhaps Aventus was experiencing, for the first time, what it was to be a young boy in the company of a pretty girl.

He wouldn't know the difference.

Aves, he replied, tipping his head slightly to regard her with a disarming tilt of his head. Have you met a bear before today? Unlike Merrick, Aventus wasn't insane, at least not in the unhinged fashion of his sire; he would not invite her to meet it face-to-face, but merely wondered if this was her first encounter.