Firefly Glen mitesco

I don’t want to be a soldier, Germanicus, the dark boy thought tiredly. The words did not leave his tongue.

Crowfeather stumbled to his paws quickly with the silver guardian standing over him, imposing, frightening. The seer thought of the nights when his father woke him in a similar way. Those were times when he had caused great disappointment.

Yes, Germanicus.

The shadow followed the older man’s gaze and sniffed hesitantly. A smell that was familiar.

Is that the feline with claws? he asked tentatively.