Nocturne Summit A sea of clouds

"the ranger has training in poetry," germanicus commented in a start of laughter, a low snort from his nostrils. not at the impossibility. only at his lack of surprise. the boy who spoke of stars also knew how to paint. it was not a skill with which germanicus had been blessed. 

where there was imagination for crowfeather, there was only parchment for the eagle. he mentally re-mapped the glowing words into ink-lines.

"you are correct. and the mountains here form their western border. it is difficult to wage war from a cliffside."

a glance, one germanicus told himself was only observant.