Altar of Twilight A shooting star

The climb over the point of the summit's base had been more difficult than the dark wolf had anticipated. Crowfeather felt his legs wobble uncertaintly once reaching the base on the other side. 

In the Altar of Twilight, Crowfeather could not see the lake they had left behind. He did not forget Germanicus' desire to travel to the east. The glen beyond was the dark figure's intended target. 

Pausing to catch his breath, Crowfeather sought @Germanicus with his honey gaze.

he stood with wind beneath the argent hues of his pelt. here the wind could not reach them, and the stone walls stood in eldritch light. germanicus let out his breath.

"the fragrance of lake rodney does not exist here." the ranger met crowfeather's seeking with the directness of his own look. he was impressed, and respectfully looked away as the other recovered himself.

"do you remember the way to brecheliant?" he asked softly, remembering the errand they had agreed to fulfill. their travel had become introspective and long-winded. yet germanicus had no complaints to lodge, and took the air again.

not yet to their stopping-point, then. the eagle had not forgotten this glen.

Germanicus had remarked that the smell of the lake had faded behind them. Crowfeather had noticed this too when they had first crested over the mountain point. The goal was still in place, however.

Yes, Germanicus, and the glen is just that way, the dark seer gestured with a nod of his snout toward the opening in the altar. The stones on either side of them looked intimidating. For a moment, the dark wolf thought about their individual desires for a pack and wondered if this would be an adequate place to claim.

Ruenna said that they were south of the Redhawk Caldera. We could probably trace the mountain back that way after… after we go to the glen, perhaps, Crowfeather responded.

yes, germanicus.

it felt the boy said his name more often than he uttered the other. there was determination in the young cohort's voice. the eagle's mouth twitched with amusement. "show me this glen, crowfeather."

it seemed to be of import to the celes. and so it would be this for germanicus also. 

he kept pace with his companion, sparing another look to their surroundings.

The dark wolf could not help the smile that sprung onto his snout. The world was beyond them, he knew. The stretch of what Germanicus had called the Teekon. 

They would need to turn back at some point, to fulfill their promise to the Redhawk Caldera. Crowfeather did not mind. The journey had kissed life into his soul. 

A quick smile flashed to Germanicus, teeth and all. Without warning, Crowfeather began to run. He wished in his heart for Germanicus to follow on his heels, to feel the heat of his breath.

crowfeather smoothed into a run. the fine lines of the willow-legged hunter did not suggest a challenge of speed, however. but a pursuit. 

germanicus did not spare a thought as he swept after crowfeather. his companion was made for an easier speed, by youth and by formation. and the eagle knew the way that stone and earth and twig twisted underfoot. how swiftly he must adjust to the terrain. he kept pace through confidence in this unconscious abilities.

but germanicus kept the rein upon his own speed, letting it surge little by little as he took whatever curves crowfeather put them through.

The flatter terrain was easier to journey, easier for the dark wolf to soar across. Crowfeather did not have many talents but running away had always been a necessity. Necessity turned skill, or merely a coward’s strength, he was not certain.

Running from Germanicus came with its own reward. For the dark seer knew that the silver soldier would be there. He no longer worried quite as much that the stalwart wolf would vanish unexpectedly. Crowfeather still feared being abandoned, but the nagging worry had receded to the back of his mind.

Flying like a winged crow across the earth, the thin figure lifted his head and barked back to Germanicus. Just ahead was the start of woodland, the thick of trees. Crowfeather would cease his sprinting when they had reached its edge.

germanicus saw the rising of trees in the distance. their glossy path would carry them forward, and at crowfeather's signal, the ranger dropped his own speed. he was given then the vision of the young darting ahead, legs symbiotic with an unspoken desire. comely. symmetrical. 

not a cohort. alare, the fleetest of auxilia, soaring now before germanicus. where crowfeather could not turn to hold him with the art-gold eyes, the eagle watched.

he drew up sharply when they had come to the branchline, panting in a trained and quiet way.

At the trees, Crowfeather slowed to a trot and then turned to where Germanicus had arrived next. The dark figure’s lungs ached with the race they had made, but he tried to match the panting art that the silver guardian demonstrated… without much luck.

Are you hungry, Germanicus? Crowfeather inquired between breaths. Is there something here for me to learn from you?

Perhaps the boy did speak the guardian’s name too often. It had become a habit over only a few days. Crowfeather rather enjoyed the taste of the man’s moniker upon his lips. A secret he held close to his heart.

"yes." but germanicus did not move from where he stood near the end of their path. nor did he shift the gaze that had come to rest upon crowfeather. 

the ache that ico once instilled had now returned. it was injurious. unique. the eagle let himself linger there in the look until the rustle of feathers in the underbrush swung his head.

"there are boar in these woods," germanicus said, moving with a long step to enter the shadows. "but they are dangerous."

he felt shaken.

Good, thought the dark figure. He was hungry too and the fragrance of the woodland had filled him with the desire to fill such needs. 

Germanicus spoke a word of warning. Boars existed there and they would be dangerous. The narrow snout of the boy pointed to the guardian. 

Could two soldiers bring one down? he asked in a voice that sounded far from that of a soldier's.

two soldiers. "if the boar is young." it was the tusks of the fully grown which posed most risk for damage. germanicus swiftly found he was unwilling to subject crowfeather in this way.

but he would leave the decision of their quarry to the youth. the eagle was not weary of decision-making, only as always piqued by what crowfeather chose to do next.

The dark young wolf contemplated the information that had been given. Germanicus seemed indifferent to the idea of taking on of the boar down. Crowfeather was almost certain he had heard the scouting parties of the Starsea return with tales of wicked pigs, pigs that mauled and gored. 

Uncertainty was like a butterfly fluttering in his chest. 

Let's see if there is a small one. So we can share, Crowfeather stated after his thoughtful period. They had taken turns hunting for one another over their journey. The seer wished to dominate something more filling. He wanted to prove that they could accomplish anything, even if such thoughts were those of a fool.

crowfeather was focused upon this possibility. germanicus felt his own features warm to the idea. "you have gotten a taste for hunting," he observed, thinking of the prey that his companion had slain upon their journey. swift. precise. he gathered these into his list of adjectives for the boy.

the ranger nosed down through the foliage, exposing the telling hoof-mark of a roaming boar. further ahead, these tracks became legion. the gamey reek of the wild pigs filled the air. germanicus searched for crowfeather's reaction.

Crowfeather followed in the place he had made, right beside Germanicus. The dark shape would move only a few paces, searching for more signs of the wild pigs.

Once the silver guardian had moved ahead, the dark wolf caught sight of the hooves that had imprinted in the dirt. The scent grew thicker, more powerful. Crowfeather could feel his eyes watering at the pungent odor that the boar carried on them. He squinted with a crinkled snout.

They smell so bad, the younger hunter whispered. Do they taste better than they smell? His voice was pleading and soft. If they tasted as poor as their odor, Crowfeather might have encountered his first regret of their journey.

germanicus chuckled. the sound came more easily than he had expected. "they taste as they smell," he confirmed, gaze shining for a moment to see crowfeather's expression. and then all slid behind his metallic veneer, and he put his muzzle toward the scents again.

"shall we continue? or should we search for the less fragrant?" the half-smile played around his mouth a moment.

when germanicus turned back to survey the weald, he felt that his veins had quickened in some way.

That warm rough laugh again. Crowfeather’s neck felt tight, this throat unable to swallow.

Even at the mention of the boar tasting as rank as they smelled, the dark wolf did not wish to end their hunt, or to seek other options. He wanted to demonstrate his willingness, his desire to prove himself. The narrow features shook to answer and he provided a softly spoken, no.

Let’s find one. I’ll try it… with you, the seer added breathily. No matter their prey, there would be comfort and pleasure derived from the animal that was fallen by their teeth. To share that with Germanicus was a powerful motivation.

with you.

germanicus was suddenly reminded of how the sweet blood-smell had perfumed crowfeather's mouth once more. his mind lurched away from the image, and he faced into the undergrowth, watching the boar-path disappear further ahead. unthinkingly he started to follow.

the eagle must avoid such concepts. "you may earn a scar today," he uttered. but his tone was not warning, only informative. it was crowfeather who had led them here and chosen their target. the ranger would see it through to whatever end followed.

The dark shadow prowled after Germanicus. The nose of the hunter was scouring the dirt and leaves beneath paw. The fragrance of the boar was much stronger as they carved their path in. 

At the mention of a scar, the dark features lifted.

Crowfeather blinked at Germanicus with wonder. He had never known a scar from a true battle. He had many from his childhood. Others from things he would rather forget. 

This scar carried the premise of honor with it. 

You think so? he voiced quietly, but did not expect a reply.

in the second of time before the next events, germanicus found himself watching crowfeather with a cool appraisal. an expression that plucked at the young racer's eye and mouth. 

another quizzing. another test. but this time the eagle did not sense himself administering it.

the infuriated, razor squeal of an infuriated pig rang out. and then the colony of boar were suddenly stampeding through their midst. germanicus reacted swiftly, seizing for crowfeather's nape and dragging the boy rightmost.

it was an attempt to evade the piercing hooves.

The squel broke through though and hunt alike. The dark young figure was filled with fear unlike any he had felt before. The flurry of hooves against the earth felt as though the dirt quaked beneath him. 

One glance toward the stampeding beasts and Crowfeather knew he would be trampled. The dark fur along his neck stood bristling. Honey eyes were wide in shock. One paw was lifted as if in preparation to flee. 

Teeth gripped his nape and all grounding was swept from under him. Crowfeather was pulled from the angry pigs only a heartbeat before their pointed fangs would have pierced him. 

Body tumbled onto the hardened muscle of his silver savior.

germanicus landed quite solidly. a fall that might have been broken by a patch of thick brush was intensified by the weight of crowfeather against him.

the air was punched from his lungs, and the eagle was forced to suck a great draught of breath. on the end of it, a weak and surprised inhale.

his pulse galloped, and not until he felt the trickling along his right shoulder did germanicus stir. "you will earn a scar," he grunted, gently sliding crowfeather from against his chest with a wince, "if you are not careful."

the mark of a tusk, low along his forearm.

The dark shape of Crowfeather did not seem to comprehend what had happened. He was shouldered off of the grunting silver shape of the guardian. The boy's hackles were bristled and stood tall. Upon his face was an expression of disbelief, concern, fear. Then the fragrance of blood filled his nose and Crowfeather began to look around his own body for a sign of injury. 

Germanicus' words drew the dark wolf's eye. There was a glistening gouge in the guardian's foreleg. A gasp sounded from the lips of the seer. He stepped forward upon tender paws, tail tucked tightly to his belly. 

You've done a terrible thing, he scorned himself. The burning in his eyes told him that tears would come and there would be no steeling himself against them. Disappoint him again, foolish boy, the voice growled angrily in his skull. Crowfeather reached toward the silver beast with his nose to touch near the flesh of the man's wound. 

Ger- Germanicus, sounded a pathetic pleading whimper. 

You- you- you're injured. I wasn't c- I wasn't careful, the tears tumbled from his eyes. Crowfeather turned sharply to hide them from the older man.

the eagle blinked, and crowfeather was beset by a thousand emotions. the striking jet visage was shimmering with tears, and suddenly whisked away from germanicus.

"no," came the guttural, impulsive sound. the guardian reached out unsteadily to nudge the alare's face, back toward his own. "i am not injured."

"the skin is thinner here," he explained, seeking any excuse to pull back from the hearth-heat of their touch. germanicus gestured to the stemming slice. "the blood is always more profuse where it beats closest against the surface."

"it will cost us a day's rest in your glen, nothing more than that." voice that sought to be assurant now grew aloof, and he stood with a fiercely controlled exhale of pain.

So beset by emotion, Crowfeather did not realize that Germanicus had reached for him. It was not until the touch found its place that the dark figure quivered in response. Eyes closed tightly to stem the flow of tears. 

... not injured ... 

The young shadow looked to the guardian with a breath that shook Crowfeather like a leaf in autumn. Germanicus was trying to explain to him the reason for the blood flow. The silver tactician made the comment that it would take only the night to rest within the glen and he would be able to move on. 

The dark wolf was unable to move beyond his shock that Germanicus was not mad. 

The seer's mind had whirred beyond a number of remedies. Mothwing had shown him how to find herbs for injuries. She had taught him even to use cobwebs to help stop the blood from flowing. Crowfeather knew that he could help. 

He snapped to attention and looked at the older male with urgency, panic still evident in his gaze. 

I- I- I know how to find herbs, Germanicus! I was taught. Let me find a place for us to stay and some herbs and you rest here.

Crowfeather did not wait for an answer. He instinctively reached out to touch his nose to the man's cheek before bounding into the trees and the depth of the glen.