King Elk Forest a journey (a dream of flight)

'Friend...'

'Vein...'

'Medic...'

All that was said was considerably overwhelming to the crow. He did what he could to listen, to understand the message that was attempted to be conveyed, and yet he was filled with uncertainty. 

Until the final offering left the mouth of the wolf called Vein. An offering to share his sweets. 

Crowfeather looked to him again, distrust and fear in his honey eyes. 

Vein of what? he inquired first. He was certain that that couldn't have been the male's full name. Crowfeather was unaware of the various naming conventions outside of his birth home. 

Then, with a ravaged look at the frogs that were being pinned to the earth, Crowfeather felt his stomach lurch with need. What would I have to do? For a frog? 

Nothing came for free. He had learned this lesson long before.