Lion Head Mesa leviculus

The silver eagle's scent had filled the air, lingering like something he could have conjured with wishes. When Crowfeather had captured the smell of the man, he had almost laughed. When the fragrance hadn't faded, the dark wolf had slipped into delirium. 

Weary and haggard on his paws, Crowfeather searched, hunting with the glow of his dull yellow gaze until he landed on the soldier's face. Relief washed through him like a wave of salty water. 

Germanicus, the shadow breathed shakily.