Lake Rodney vinitor

Something hopeful spurred inside of Crowfeather, hearing that Germanicus had thought of himself as more than a soldier. It did not matter if it was once or twice, it did not matter if he had thought about it every day since he had grown into a man. It gave Crowfeather a semblance of normalcy and comfort he had never felt. 

They sheltered beneath towering trees. Droplets splatted around their figures. Crowfeather's ears splayed atop his skull in a comical fashion. The tickling of water in the hairs of his auds was bothersome. 

When Germanicus spoke of fate, the dark wolf felt his stomach churn. A heavy weight settled between his sharp shoulder blades. The very thing that Germanicus felt he would always return to. How had Crowfeather been so foolish to promise what he had to the silver male? He could only disappoint. 

Running from my own fate, the dark figure answered. Honesty weighed a heavy ton.