Fairspell Meadow Something tells me

germanicus might have made an apt answer to the rest of it were it not for the last. the mention of children and love drove clearly knifepoint into his gut.

he stood with frustration and longing in him. "i do not wish to be rid of you. but you are not able to fight. and we walk now toward what may be the beginnings of a war."

the eagle clung to the tactical explanation, fearing the delve into what the shadow's last words had meant. "it is a much different thing to be harmed by wolves."

germanicus let out his breath. surely crowfeather sought his reciprocation. so many young men had become attached to their instructors, for far from women their age or the love of a mother, training became an intimacy of its own. 

the eagle felt that his state was only a lingering wistfulness for those days. he had never attempted to understand himself, for it had always presented itself as an obstacle. 

"tell me of the one who became a star," he invited softly, wanting to know in what soft way crowfeather regarded love.