Firefly Glen Nighttime coming

A fleeting smile danced along his dark snout. 

Crowfeather felt the budding sense of pride for the first time. The webbing clung to Germanicus' fur well and held the floral goop in place nicely. Mothwing would have been proud of him, he was sure. For the first time since he had placed the marker with the woman in the swamp, he wondered if their directions had worked. 

I have not changed my mind, the young wolf announced. It was a sudden statement, one he had not fully been prepared to make. A nervous wave found the end of his tail. I do not have regrets. 

It might have seemed odd for him to have reiterated his previous promise. If one of them was to have changed their mind, it was more likely to have been Germanicus. After all, he had been the one to suffer the injury. It had been the boy's foolishness that had caused them to halt their journey and wait for his leg to heal. 

I will not leave, he held back from his tongue.