Bearclaw Valley a tale of jerusalem

No.

He had never admitted it out loud before, but he had always known. His reverence for Merrick was born from his fear. His reverence for the bear was much the same. Aventus knew he was living a lie — since the day he was old enough to understand — but it was something he kept deep down in himself. There was always someone who held him in a chokehold of fear for what admitting it would bring.

For years it had been Merrick.

Now it was his own wife.

Avicus, though... She had never been a bear believer. She was above all that. Once, Aventus had denounced her for surviving where Evien had not because she was not loyal to it, but that had also been the day his eyes were opened. Evien had been loyal. Evien had been true. The bear killed him anyway. The target should not have been Evien. It shouldn’t even have been Avicus.

It should have been him.

No good thing has ever come from the bear, he said, twisting his muzzle into a wrinkling grimace. Avicus knew. She must be doing better than any wolf in Ursus now, which begged the question of why she was here at all.