Story for Story

Avacyn scraped the edge of a dagger in smooth, steady motions across the back side of a hide as she prepared it for tanning, doing a bit of idle work while she enjoyed this quiet time with her daughter. They spoke about various things and enjoyed each other's company while she worked until Fever brought up her "Grandpa Moros" and what he had said about Papa Alastor, making Avacyn pause in the middle of a stroke of her blade. It wasn't the first time that Fever had made a mention of her great-grandfather and when she was younger Avacyn had written it off as the weird babblings of a pup and that maybe she had asked Alastor about his parents at some point so maybe that's where she had heard the name. Now though, Fever and her siblings were on the brink of being a full two seasons old and were all beginning to mature to a point where she expected them to speak sensibly for the most part. She still spoke of Moros as if he was real and as if he was truly telling her these things and it left Avacyn unsettled.

Still, outside of the strangeness that was the quotes she had from a man she never could have met–that Avacyn herself had never met–there was a deeper issue that she felt like she had to address first. She put down the dagger and looked to Fever with a bit of a frown. "Strength means so much more than just physical brawn. You don't need to be able to fight to make our family or the Ancestors proud." She slid the half-finished hide away, giving Fever her full attention. "In truth, I have fought for our family and pack far less than I have worked on diplomacy, rebuilt strained ties and offered advice to our family members, and given care to you and your siblings and my own younger siblings. Emotional strength and intelligence is just as valuable and sometimes even more valuable for a Matriarch than physical prowess."

"Avacyn Medacium"