Grouse Thicket quercus

"germanicus." crowfeather. the unassailable gorge sailing up, one of disgust for heathenry. but he was no longer so proud as he had once been. the man had heeded the ranger's instruction and hunted well. perhaps he was deserving of a better start.

it was not something that germanicus felt he might provide.

gaze lifted to survey the position of the sun. "bring that and come along. we will find a new place to rest for the night."

turning now, striding off into the rustling branches of the thicket. do not sleep where you have killed.