Bearclaw Valley the valley of unrest

she knows the border is important. it's in her bones, this invisible line between the outside and Ursus. this is where their scent begins and proliferates throughout the valley; beyond it, their influence fades, and eventually grows into other claims. like that of the over-friendly woman and the wolves her parents had fought.

Avicus thinks they might come back, these new foes. sometimes she thinks the mountain woman will stir again for revenge against Astara. she feels constantly edgy since the skirmish by the standing stones, and today she brings herself to the mouth of the valley, pacing.

they are safe on all sides but this one. large rock walls keep them in, and their enemies out. but where the valley opens up to the flowers, they are exposed.

she smells urine, recognizing some of the scents—her sire, her dam, the healer. . . she adds her own to the mix, squatting and releasing a trickle upon the ground. her nostrils flare as she finishes. maybe it's just her imagination, but even her waste smells wary and on edge.

maybe that's not good. but how did one inject confidence into their own piss?

she'd have to ask her father. he reeked of swagger.

Skoll didn't visit the children of Merrick and Astara often, in fact he had never even met the girl. He was doing one of his very frequent patrols, the ones done in the mornings. He was keeping an eye on their only open border just in case any more Easthollow members showed up, or some others that would be determined to be enemies. 

Upon seeing one of the children of the leaders, Skoll glanced around to see if one of the parents was near. One of them was not. Were they old enough to talk yet? Skoll didn't keep up with the development of those kids, for it was not his job. 

"It's dangerous out here." 

she cranes her neck to stare at the approaching figure. at his words, her gaze shifts from impassive to something akin to 'no shit, sherlock,' and then she looks ahead again, continuing her foray along the boundary line. she's got a little bit of urine left in her and squats once more. the stream hisses against a small, stout bit of clover.

he must be here to patrol, too. she'll welcome his company as long as he doesn't keep telling her things she already knows. why does he feel the need to treat her like a child? Merrick doesn't.

Avicus stands again and forges ahead, casting a brief glance over her shoulder at the warrior, wondering if he'll continue to admonish her, or follow without argument.

Skoll could care less what the kid did as long as she didn't get herself killed. Ursus didn't need more tension with anyone else. But he wouldn't go out of his way from stopping the kid from doing what she wanted. If Avicus wanted to patrol, he would just go with her since that's what he was there for. 

When the kid looked back at him, he decided to follow. There was no point in arguing.

oh. well. this was something. rather than push back against her defiance, he merely follows. she figured he would have just tried to boss her around, but apparently that is not so. feeling smug, she saunters along, waiting for her bladder to fill up some more so she can do her part.

and then she turns, curiosity getting the best of her. Avicus doesn't really know this man. she hadn't noticed when he left the blood-baptism early. she has nothing against him; in fact, her opinion is better for his compliance today.

he's a little strange looking. he has two eyes, unlike Merrick, but they're different colors. one like the sky, the other earth. she stares at him, and then shuts one of her eyes, then the other. she repeats this odd gesture one or two times, not really sure how to ask him about it with words.

Skoll couldn't care less about whether or not the kid was mad at him for leaving that meeting early, it was so far out of his mind at that point that he had forgotten about it. Though if Avicus would have mentioned it, he might have scoffed. She didn't though, and Skoll was left to relish the silence as the pup looked up at him. His own eyes looked down, watching the child, wondering if she could speak or if she was as silent as her mother. Merrick could talk, so did the rest of the pack. So maybe it was just a matter of choice - the kids surely could talk now, right? He hardly kept track of their ages. 

Avicus blinked up oddly at him, and it took Skoll a moment to realize that it was a comment about his eyes. Well of course it was - even when he was a child his own family reveled at the 'beauty' of the orbs that were seared into his face and wouldn't be removed unless someone did it themselves. Skoll never really understood the beauty of it, since he was born that way. And he even had seen some others with eyes alike his before. 

"I was born like that." He said, still watching the child. There wasn't much he could say about it.

she wonders what color her eyes are. she's never seen her own reflection, more interested in drinking from clear streams than gazing into the rippling liquid mirror. had Merrick been born with just one of his eyes? why were Aventus' eyes now bone-pale, when they once had been the serene blue of a summer sky?

slowly, she nods, though his explanation had only raised more questions. but she doesn't know how to ask them, and so she lets them fall away, mulling instead over his lofty frame. thin, though. he doesn't have the same bulk as other large wolves. if she were familiar with scarecrows, she'd think of one upon seeing him.

one day, he'll be her brother in arms. for now, he is an adult and feels worlds away—farther even than her elusive sire and the company he keeps.

what can i do for you? Avicus parrots woodenly, thinking of her time at the border the other day.

The kid looked like she had more she wanted to ask, but just didn't say anything else. He wondered if Avicus was thinking about the logic of his eyes. Or maybe it could be about others? Perhaps Skoll should redirect her to her father to ask all of the things she was wondering. Would Merrick answer such questions? Maybe, maybe not, it didn't matter to Skoll. 

A brow raise at the question, it had him confused. 

"You don't need to do anything for me."

oh. this isn't the reply she expected. she only has the canned question, and nothing more; she stares at him, unsure of what to do or say next. the silence is less awkward for her and more annoying, for she could be doing anything else right now, and yet she stands trying to sort out words for this fellow.

isn't he a guardian, anyway? so let him follow along and guard the borders with her.

Avicus turns and begins to tread the boundary line again, without another word to the odd-eyed man. perhaps he'd follow, but maybe not. she will find with time that her unsettling quiet is more of an advantage than not. she doesn't need to make friends, after all.