Bearclaw Valley the gold-bug

set outside Astara's whelping den

dead.

she kicks a pebble, watching it skitter across the ground before coming to rest, again motionless. a dead leaf is next upon her path, and Avicus stares at it. it does not move. dead, she decides, and moves on.

a bone, left over from one of the kills brought to the den. she takes it in her mouth and feels nothing within it, not a stirring to be found. dead, she mumbles, dropping the bone with a muted clatter upon the earth. her eyes light upon another stone, and she is padding toward it when movement distracts her:

a fledgling chickadee, alive and well. but one of its wings is bent at an awkward angle, and so it flaps upon the ground, half-hidden in brush. only the yellow of its feathers gives it away. it is orphaned (or so it appears) and utterly helpless without the aid of flight.

not dead, she thinks, and with her heart hammering excitedly in her chest, she presses herself against the ground, hoping to creep closer. hoping to snare it.

how thin is the line between dead and not dead?

from afar, amongst foliage, jaylen watches. he cannot hear the words she speaks, only sees the little flash of red moving from here to there. she presses herself to the ground, stalking something he cannot see. in ways, then, baby bears and baby wolves were alike, he decided, though they hunted much differently. rarely did jaylen have to stalk or hide himself. his strength always seemed to be enough. 

he imitated her then, where he stand, dropped to the ground to press to the earth in a stealthy crawl, and wiggled out from the foliage to make his way towards her. he did not do a very good job of staying subtle.

the chickadee is enough to capture her attention on any ordinary day. but it is, apparently, no ordinary day, for just as Avicus creeps closer, a massive brown shape—bigger than any wolf she'd seen—emerges from the thicket, pressed low to the ground just as she is.

instantly puffing up, she takes a wobbly step back, lips curled up in a startled snarl. it's not that she is averse to strangers. it's that even in the naivete of youth, instinct still screams at her.

the creature is many times her size. his paws are as big as she is. he is a threat.

her eyes dart, looking for her mother, her brother, the one-eyed man, the others she'd met. is she truly alone with the giant? Avicus flashes him a wary look, indigo gaze glinting coldly—an icy facade over her fearful heart hammering in her chest.

instead of being eager as the dark pup had been, this baby was... fearful. its lips drew into a snarl, stepping back on tiny legs. its gaze was wary. jaylen's own face fell into a sad frown. i won't hurt you, wolf cub, he called, and as if to demonstrate, backed up slightly while still lowered to the ground. would this teach the child she could frighten bears? who knew, all he wanted was for the wolf's family to like him too. he had been promised a welcoming home, but it seemed merrick was the only one who really welcomed him so far, and it was saddening.

instead of lurching toward her, he cowers. he falls back. is it a trick? her brow wrinkles in confusion, and she takes a few more steps back, finding the place where she'd left the bone. he gives her words as well, although they sound a little strange—acccented differently from the words of her family.

she takes the ivory in her mouth and slowly, slowly, approaches the giant. she lays the bone a few paces from his massive paws and then looks up at him. dead, she says, gesturing at the object.

she doesn't know whether it's a gift, a peace offering, a distraction. . . she is so flummoxed by his appearance that she does not know what to do at all, and that indecision frightens her.

Avicus lowers herself onto her haunches, sitting upright, and stares at the creature. waiting for him to speak. waiting for him to make the next move.

the den is just a scamper away. . .

the girl takes a few steps back, and jaylen's brow wrinkled sadly. but when she returned with something pale between her jaws, deposited before him, he smiled again, glad she was not too afraid to approach him. 

beady black eyes fell down to the bone. 

his gaze moved back towards the sitting child. it was an odd word to develop early, he thought, but he had not yet witnessed the evil of this land, and simply applauded her speedy language development. very good, wolf cub! it is dead, you are right. he cooed, black lips curling into a little congratulatory smile.

even with limited language cognition, Avicus knows an 'atta girl' when she hears it. she does not smile, but her tail thumps upon the ground, and her chest swells with a small bloom of pride. he is friendly, like many of the other wolves. he does not look like them—and yet, he is one of them.

he has to be, right?

her eyes narrow in a calculating squint. yes, he certainly has some wolflike features. his thick fur, his snout, his ears. but he's bigger, his face more round, and again, that accent. . .

he is an enigma. a kindred spirit, for one day Avicus will fashion herself an enigma, too.

he's a friend.

ride, she echoes his last word, before pausing and then correcting herself. righTT.

friend indeed. friend shaped. the girl imitates now, ride, then right, and he's already nodding to both of them, finding either answer satisfactory and good enough. who knew he'd end up teaching a wolf cub her words today? right. he agrees with strong emphasis, the word spoken slowly enough for a child to process. it means you did something good, he explained, as if this might clear up some confusion she had not yet expressed. 

could we wrap soonish? <3

yeah! this can be my last post; that works :)

'good.' she doesn't know that word, yet. ironic (thanks, alanis) that her parents—well, her one-eyed sire—are anything but 'good.' in this moment, though, she is 'good.' the bear says so, and since this is ursus, the bear's word rules.

she steps forward again and noses the bone closer to him, watching it roll across the ground. she returns her gaze briefly to him, nods in a strangely adult fashion, and then turns to walk away. her russet fur fades into the brush, her lengthening tail the last to be seen of the pup before she disappears entirely within green.

the bear was an excellent diversion, but she wanted to find the bird again. she wanted to see if she could be 'good' again. she wanted to watch it, transform it from not dead to dead.

but she had to find it first.

she pushes the bone close to him. jaylen would pick it up in his mouth, nod at her similarly, and likely bury or store the gift privately somewhere later. as she set off, he was sad to see her go- but glad he had made another friend, and was perhaps closer to being part of merrick's little family.