Silvertip Mountain You will hear music and then you will not

And there she was. Aventus lifted his eyes to find the subject of his thoughts coming toward him, jet and smoky grey and beautiful auburn, and felt himself becoming taciturn. There was still something unspoken hanging between Arielle and him that needed resolving, but he didn't know how to put words to it. It felt like there were snakes wriggling in his chest, fighting to be free, and they only writhed more vigorously at the brush of her plush fur against him. He felt his stomach leap into his throat.

I'm— so glad you aren't hurt; so angry that she got away and I don't know how to handle it; sorry about the day at the stream; feeling things I don't know how to feel; desperate for you to run away with me; lost;

He said none of the crazy little things that flashed through his mind then, because his father shouted from within the cave, making him flinch. Thank god Arielle was there and far more composed than him. Not for the first time, he marveled at her dedication to her pack and readiness to jump in. She was more Ursus than most anyone. He was hot on her heels into the cave, overcome suddenly with the inappropriate urge to press her to the wall.

Stop it! he chastised himself. It wasn't about him and Arielle right now. They found Merrick in the dark, on his feet, raging at Evien's skull. Father, it is us, he called out, firm and quiet as he found his place at Arielle's side, curving protectively lest Merrick mistake them for the demons that haunted him. He hoped his news would placate the one-eyed dragon just a little. Seeing him like this never ceased to unsettle the Bruin-jaw.