Haunted Wood Cicada night

germanicus predicted the first attack, but not the second. he readjusted himself to take the brunt of the blow, grunting audibly as crowfeather connected with his weak limb. "very good," the eagle muttered, backing away for a breath of recovery.

his sunbloom eyes watched the boy for a minute entire. "are you all right to continue, crowfeather?" it was not any failure on the shadow's part. it was only how germanicus had become accustomed to the shifts and falls and buoyancy of the younger wolf. and how now it felt as though their spar was forced.

"sparring should be enjoyable. it is not. we may stop."