Bearclaw Valley Silence, then...

blood was his daughter's robe.
the fierce sunrise slash of scarlet in the mute woman's fur reminded merrick of other things: lightning licking at the edge of a dry tree, fire sweeping through an old forest, burning all and leaving a choking smoke in its wake.
the purification through flame, embodied in the new skeptic who pledged her fealty to the inner family of ursus. and to his red girl.
"vesta, perhaps."
he would leave it to avicus, and time would tell whether or not the woman would be worthy to wield such fire for merrick and his own.
he leant forward, a soulless curve lighting his scarred lips. "ursus will be your home. never cross us."