Firefly Glen Nighttime coming

the tactician looked down at the branch with its pale mesh and bright flowers. he could make no sense of it, except that one was to staunch. germanicus possessed only rudimentary skills in this regard: he could keep himself alive if wounded, but the nuance of it escaped him.

the depth of this gouge meant little if infection filled it with disease.

"yes," the eagle said, and turned himself so that his forearm was more presented. his eyes lifted away, watching the bobbing circlets of light dance around the trees.

he wondered what sort of people had made this land their own.