Bearclaw Valley pack and forth

Despite everything — what he knew Merrick had done, and what he'd started to suspect he'd done — Ico held a genuine fondness for him. Though perhaps "fondness" was too uncomplicated a word to describe the tangle of appreciation, admiration and fascination that had cobwebbed its way across Ico's young heart.

Ico nodded to show he understood. And he would stay strong as long as he could. It seemed both he and Merrick had come to the unspoken agreement that he did not belong here... but unfortunately, Ico did not belong anywhere else either. So he would continue simply to do his best, chronicling the pack's history, weaving stories for its warriors in moments of rest, and collecting herbs for Evien. All while being quietly aware that there might be ways in which he could write a new chapter to his own story.

The boy blinked from Merrick's paws to his dark, weary-but-smiling face. Is there anything I can do for you? he asked uncertainly, hoping that there was.