Silver Creek the sword of martin the warrior

Casmir placed one paw before the other carefully. the night before had been riddled with worry, for both himself and for Laika -- but the words which had brought him back to the Creek rang in the back of his mind. he had not forgotten Saena's words, nor the vision of her standing before him with pride upon her lips, even as he saw the emotion rife within her. 

unbidden, thoughts of his father leapt to mind; he took another step. Lasher would never have dared to do such a thing, but then again, Lasher had been ultimately pacifistic. perhaps Constantine was such, but Casmir was not. he had too much to lose. the sprawled pieces of his plan tumbled through his mind, and he tried to affix them together, to no avail. fuck it. he'd wing it.

Casmir breathed in the cool air of autumn, let his eyes drink in the chaotic colours of the falling leaves, and called for @Spring.