Bramblepoint Blue spotted tail

The dark shadow held his breath at the touch of the man against his ear, pulling webs away from his dark cloak. The familiar throb of tension in his neck and shoulders, held still by his breath trapped inside.

Then Germanicus was gone, away from him. Crowfeather exhaled softly and drew his ears toward the man’s words.

No, the weald was not as nice as the glen. There were no stars glittering around them. The seer did not think that it lacked in pleasurable things. The trees allowed him to feel safe, at peace. The thickness of the foliage was a small comfort in the wake of the feline’s pursuit.

Will there be forests where we go? Crowfeather asked quietly, settling onto his belly to rest his head on his paws.