Silvertip Mountain sun in the bloodied hand

merrick, off again; he found himself staring at an ecstatic streaming of water, large falls cascading into the basin at the top of the mountain.
so little he had seen before! he marvelled, tattered ears swivelled as usual for any sign of firmer presence, now that he had come into awareness of a group near to this sacred mountain.

gonna make a little timeline thingy bc it's fun, lmk if you mind :D

Ashlar had followed them quietly. He had not asked why they left because he knew that no true answers would be forthcoming, and he instead held onto the silent hope that perhaps this place would serve a feeling that the valley had not. Even in spite of everything, somehow, he could not lose that hope.

This place was beautiful and Ashlar had never lived upon a mountain. He'd been too tempted to climb its reaches and, timidly, he'd spent some time on the trails that wound the steeper and rockier slopes. The view was breathtaking and he imagined the types of songs he could sing here, where the air was clear and the whole world was laid out before him.

Then he found the body. A coyote speared on a jutting of rock and just left there. The twist of it had burned into his mind, made sharper by the freeze of shock and horrified terror. The heaving of his stomach brought him out of it and he bolted. The haphazard path sent him careening towards the sound of Roaring water and he slid to a gasping stop at the lip of a ledge, one that lay adjacent the massive waterfall.

The sight of the waterfall wasn't what caught him. Instead Ashlar's panicked stare was locked on to the figure of Merrick as his chest heaved. Was this his work? Why? The question was screaming in his mind and, for the first time, Ashlar considered that he might never know. Maybe he didn't want to.

merrick stared at ashlar, who had suddenly stumbled quickly into his field of vision. the bearwitch switched his plume, studying the boy and his horrified expression.
but he chose to do nothing;
lips curved to himself;
perhaps the bear had at last shown himself in a form the bard had understood.
merrick built this truth swiftly and with much dedication to its merit, and flung his plume upward in a prideful banner.

If he continued here, he could not ignore it any longer. He'd convinced himself there was meaning to their violence, but if there was, it was meaning the boy could not understand himself. They hurt the things around them with no regret and the thought turned Ashlar's stomach sour. But as he looked at Merrick, he felt something beneath the fear. Curiosity, but tinged with sympathy.

Even seeing this, he couldn't see these wolves as evil. Why are they so afraid?

That thought struck him and was the thing that knocked him from his frozen state. He remembered when Merrick had demanded he choose, and he knew now what that choice would be. It was neither, and they would accept that, or he would leave.

I won't. I won't kill for you. Ashlar said. He was unused to confrontation but not conviction, so only a brief initial tremble betrayed him.

merrick pinned ashlar with a stabbing expression.
it softened measure by measure as he saw how tormented the boy was! had become!
how blood did not ally and never had been the comfort of the supplicant.
"i will not command you to kill."
"i want to know that if wolves climbed ursus tomorrow and set themselves upon us, that you would defend."
"and i want to know that you are devoted to the bears as we are."
"killing," merrick went on, "is an art for some. a need for others. a necessity for many more. where you fall here is your own knowledge."
"look at arielle. she does not kill. but she seeks to know healing. she has found a role within ursus that means she is in service to it."

Somehow, Ashlar stayed where he was. Tail curled, of course, and nervous as he'd ever been. But he remained where he was as Merrick's stare cut through him, sharp as any fang.

He could lie. The thought of it curled his stomach, though. In a way he had been lying since coming upon this pack, trying in every way to become something he knew he never could. He didn't want to.

I would ask them why. I would talk to them. His attempt to portray his confidence fell a little flat, but at least he did not stumble over the words. It was important for him that Merrick knew this, because it wasn't enough if only he did. He'd been tested a few times over and each time, he'd felt more and more isolated. There wasn't a single wolf here who knew him or had shown interest in attempting to learn of him, and he was beginning to realize it might be his job to tell. It was an uncomfortable place, to bring such attention, but it was worth it if it would help them understand.

merrick licked his torn lips. "and what would you say?"
there was but one path forward. but ashlar had steadied at last, and so the lantern had turned down some of its fire.
the boy was the most resistant clay to be molded. but he had not left, not through scorn nor fang.
merrick drew a breath. "come with me."
high time that ashlar knew how exactly the bear spirit compelled peacekeeping in ursus.

The hope! He followed and could not help it - his expression lightened some when Merrick asked him to explain what he would say. It didn't matter what the bear king did. Ashlar, looking at him, would always see the wolf who he had sung with that day. He did not know if he was a friend to Merrick, but he knew that Merrick was his friend. Trust died hard within him.

I would ask why they were here. A-and if they wanted something. If it's worth fighting. He knew enough about Ursus to know that this might be seen as naive, so there was a bit less confidence in that last statement. They fought all of the times over things that seemed not worth it, and seemed to enjoy it. I'd tell them why we don't need to. There had to be other ways.

on their left, a forest of willows. and to the right, high, odd spires of earth and stone rising from the green earth, teeth cutting through a verdant skin.
the cave, ahead.
the bearwitch ducked inside its coolness, trotting with a knowing step along the crystalline corridors, until he came to a large and empty room.
there, rising on a plinth of stone studded with the glowing blue glass, what was left of evien.
merrick circled lovingly around the platform, gazing wistfully at the silent ivoried skull.
"he wanted peace in ursus. evien healed our many wounds, and spoke harshly against the battles of ursus, and our violence."
a quietude that loudly hummed.
"the bears chose him, and in his absence, we have become only our bones."

Ashlar did not know what to expect as he followed. His fear did grow some as a result, despite his intention to remain firm, but nothing could have prepared him for the skeleton. Ashlar stopped, horrified by the sight of it. And as Merrick drew his comparisons, the earthen boy began to wonder if this was some sort of example.

No. The bears had killed him... and Merrick wouldn't hurt him. Ashlar quailed as the image of the impaled coyote once more surged forth, burned into his memory, and doubt crept along his spine.

They wouldn't.

What's wrong with peace? Ashlar asked with a trembling voice. He couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn back to the skull. Evien sounded like a wolf who cared... one he might have even gotten along with here, who would have made a good friend. Without many of those here, it made him even sadder for this wolf he'd never gotten the chance to meet - but Ashlar would have felt that mourning regardless. He always did.

ashlar, horrified. merrick, pious.
"there is nothing wrong with peace. it is only that a certain sort of peace has only ever come to ursus. and it is not the calm of still waters and a quiet sky."
"if you want peace, then take root among us finally, and hold to your code. as evien did."
a position, and if ashlar could fit himself there, approval. merrick was not yet ready to surrender the boy.

Take root among us finally. Ashlar did not understand. He had tried, in earnest, to do this since the first moment he joined. But time and time again he felt he was tested and each time he failed to do what it was they wished of him. It was not his decision if he belonged here and was accepted as he was.

I want t..to. He replied, attention still drawn. Even the skull looked sad, as if it also mourned. But I.... um. Ashlar swallowed. All of his sureness had disappated with the surprises of this conversation and he was thrown by the bones, by Merrick's seeming understanding, and how little he still understood himself. I don't know how.

He did not feel they needed him or wanted him here. They were all so strong and so determined to live in this way that was wrong. He could hold to his own convictions, but if those had no place here, then did he? What would he contribute if they would not accept what he gave? To his slight embarassment, Ashlar felt his eyes well up. He couldn't explain why it mattered so much to have them need him, but with everything he'd seen, he wondered if perhaps his place was elsewhere.

merrick believed this. ashlar had never fit into their ursine ranks. but now that they had come to this culmination, now that they had found out the truth of the matter — merrick saw better how the boy might be turned to the glory of ursus.
"what do you want to do here?" a question he should have asked before, but was asking now. that was enough. and merrick waited, with something as close to warmth as he was able to achieve.