Bearclaw Valley silkrobe doorsill

Ashlar was caught when the bear looked at him and he couldn't tear away. He couldn't help but remember Avicus and the coyote. He'd been frozen then too, just the same, and his legs trembled involuntarily. This bear did not speak like his friend had, but something about that stare frightened him. Not even the claws and the fangs it came with, but that it seemed to know him.

Softly, Ashlar began to hum to himself. It was a song from his youth, one his mother had taught him long ago, and it was a blanket that usually brought him the comforting warmth of her safety when he was afraid. He did not know what Merrick or Arielle would think of it, but it was something he needed. Quiet, so that he could still hear the bear king's words.