Bearclaw Valley A life of pain is the pain of life, and you can never escape it

Aventus dropped abruptly to the ground and stretched a hind leg up to scratch behind his shoulder, scowling. He could do without the rippling ache that accompanied every strained movement he made.

Mid-scratch, a timid voice drew his attention around to a deep brown face emerging from nearby. Aventus' lips remained downturned for the duration of Ashlar's low-slung approach and question, the only indication that he'd heard anything being the minute cock of his ears in the other wolf's direction.

She challenged me, he said flatly, as if he didn't understand the question. What else did Ashlar expect him to do? Lie down and let her walk all over him? He was not Avicus' doormat, and she was not as godly as she believed herself to be.