Lost Creek Hollow the prayer of the apostle paul

glassblue eyes watched from the sweet dark greening of riverclan's hidden little world. already there when he called, and watchful, silvertongue waited a few more minutes. he had kissed the earth; he had danced, his movements mimicking even the river. he seemed excitable and not aware of himself, and now he waited. now she did also. and then with a slow movement of softly bending ferns laced with ice and long grasses bending but not breaking, she came into view with a slow, knowing smile crossing her mouth. that he was a perfect stranger meant nothing to silvertongue, who favored him with a tracing look up to his very eyes. "you have found riverclan." but her tones said he would walk no further — for now.