Blacktail Deer Plateau To be a poet is a condition...

the war with blackfeather had been well before arcturus' time. he knew bits and pieces, passed down from relatives during story time -- but even then his memories were hazy.

he considered what wraen said solemnly. he did not want the demise of the spear anymore than he wanted demise for himself -- but there was a grim truth in her words.

time was a wheel -- it brought things forth and took them back -- at length, everything fell under the wheel.

"that's quite depressing." arcturus commented with a flick of his tail, wondering if the summation of his own life when he was dead and gone would be the same. "when you put it like that, i mean. i'd rather only go up and never come down." but that was simply not how life went.