Bearclaw Valley Problems do have solutions, you know

Merrick raised me, but he said my father was loyal to him. That he left, or that he died. I forget now. Glaukos was eating while he told @Ancelin this story, as that was the deal.

He had shared some of what he recalled from boyhood: being promised to Avicus as her protector, being raised as such; the incursion they later made in to Moonglow where they stole the witch's focus.

The family worshipped gods they called the daedra, but the one which spoke to Merrick was the Great Bear. Maybe some of the altars remain; I will hunt them down if you want to see. He cracked the neck bones of the rabbit and began to pick it apart.

reverent was not the word one might use for ancelin's new regard of glaukos, but respectful was certainly its label. 
the rabbit was nothing to pay for the knowledge that the big man bestowed.
his indigo eyes glowed. "i want to see." he'd never heard of such things, daedra and bears that talked. "did you ever believe in any of it? did you ever hear anything?"

He would make sure to add the altars to his list of things to seek, then.

The boy asked about the spirits and the Bear God, and for a time Glaukos was silent because he had to think back, and it was difficult.

Much of what he'd experienced within Ursus had by now been buried under layers and layers of more recent memory; he dredged through the training of Germanicus and found at its root the memory of the Saints, and deeper still was the Boar Witch and the choice between that or the bear.

As a boy I did. I worked hard with the expectation that the Bear would spare me from harm, but that was all. Some believed that they might be visited. The one who listened—Merrick— he saw the lantern-light of that one eye flare in memory; believed enough for all of us.

Had he been spared?

Glaukos was a man now; to that degree, yes, he had survived, but he did not consider it the Bear God that had saved him. That had been his own strength and capability. In thinking back on all of these things he was given a brief clarity that he'd lost within Rivenwood.

rapt, attentive. focused. merrick had believed so fiercely in this Bear that glaukos had not felt the need to follow suit.
the young valleyman mulled on this, flopping out upon the ground beside the stonewolf. he surveyed the forest around them, and beyond, the reaching grasp of bearclaw's tall gates.
"what else did merrick teach you?" the eager grandson asked, wanting to put aside talk of this deity he did not understand for the blood-lessons he could actually parse.
the indigo eyes were fastened to glaukos, a pupil for the things ancelin had always wanted to know.

Glaukos did not know how to answer the question. It seemed so simple, but the deeper lessons which had shaped him as a boy could not be put to words so easily. How could he explain something that had become intrinsic to the core of his being? That without Merrick, Avicus, or Aventus in his life Glaukos would have certainly withered away? He watches the grandson while the boy's attention is elsewhere; he does not see that same feral quality here, despite how otherwise familiar he appears.

He clears his throat. I learned more from Avicus and Aventus. My role was to serve them, but in the beginning I did not know how. They saw my weaknesses and used them against me until I changed, and when I had shed them, I could be what they needed. A friend was never an option — but a guardian, a henchman, that was the start of it.

You said you are one of Aventus'? What did he teach you?

he taught me how to leave.
"uh, he taught me how to track, you know. be real quiet. i can move pretty well now when i wanna," ancelin pointed out, smirking to dispel the extreme discomfort he was currently experiencing.
to think! his dad had like, kept this guy? a — no. no. it couldn't have been that bad, right?
but glaukos wasn't lying, and ancelin knew that.
"all pretty messed up, man. i should apologize for that, actually, but — i mean. would you even accept it? from me, i mean."
awkward. he wanted to pace and so did. "never mind, forget that. what did merrick keep on these altars?"

The boy went on to apologize? This did not make sense to Glaukos. It had happened, and he was owed nothing. Without the structure of the cult and the lessons he had learned, he would not have survived.

You are squeamish, he noted this with a raise of his brow. How else to describe the nervous energy within Ancelin that now propelled him? Glaukos huffed.

The altars were for sacrifices. Holy bones. Prayer by the bruin-king, but I did not see much. He thought back to those days but, whether it was because of the expanse of time and natural forgetfulness or a trauma block, Glaukos could not see that far.

It was a long time ago.

squeamish? ancelin opened his mouth to defend himself, then frowned and considered. "i guess i don't like the idea my dad kept you like — that. he never told me any of this. not a word. we've been living here for months and never knew it was like, family lore, you know? but i mean, how could he have told me about ursus without saying who he was then too, or something?"
it was a long time ago.
"yeah, but you're back now, right? so — why here? after all of that?"

What answer could he give for any of it?

I did not expect to find anyone here. That was one truth worth speaking; the fact someone had decided the place was worth claiming again had been a shock.

And I had nowhere else to go.

And for how long would this be home to him? Glaukos wasn't sure. He knew well enough that Rivenwood needed his protection but it wouldn't welcome him within, which left him unmoored.