Bearclaw Valley "You have forgotten the face of your father.”

no trace of caiaphas -- but

her hackles lifted

alarm

her eyes widened

bear

was it a sigul? was it the bear-god's will?

astara stepped back, peering back at the hooded man who peered at her with no emotion readily recognizable on his face. his sheer similarity to caiaphas had the blackbird inwardly hissing -- were it not for the scent of bear that clung to his pelt, astara might have turned him away then and there.

but merrick -- her bear -- would think this was the work of his magnificent and unknowable bear-god. merrick would find joy in the coincidences, the funny little similarities.

astara took another step back, a sweep of her muzzle downward. she kept her gaze away, so the sigul might not know her true thoughts.

welcome to the red-path, brother.