Lion Head Mesa Ō kara no tegami

Satsu’s voice sounded, though Crowfeather did not know if he wished to answer to it. The dark figure had soured in their time at Akashingo. He no longer wished to stay there, no longer wished to take part in their festivities, or to gaze at the haughty Pharaoh and his predatory lapis eyes.

When Germanicus spoke, the dark wolf puckered. His heart felt heavy, and his stomach flipped somewhere between anger and boyish jealousy. Crowfeather had not forgotten just how easily he had been swept aside in the merrymaking, how easily the eagle had wandered away with a pale woman where a shadow once stood.

Crowfeather approached the two but did not meet Germanicus’ gaze.

I can tend to your wounded. I have knowledge of herbs.

The seer looked to Satsu with a frown.

He will be faster without me, anyway.