Lion Head Mesa leviculus

I do not like it, the shadow admitted.

Sitting on the mesa in wait for their enemy felt like something foolish, but Crowfeather did not know better. He had never experienced the art of warfare. It was Germanicus who would know their best course of action, the best plan for their defenses and then possible attack. They were against odds, the seer felt. He worried that they might not step away from the warzone without suffering greatly.

And yet… the closeness that had been brought by the older man was shocking to Crowfeather’s system. He could feel his heart hammer in his throat. Warmth spilled through his belly and lapped at his legs.

Do we have enough warriors here? To defend if they attack… or watch for them to appear? The shadow’s eyes were wide, fixed on the eagle’s face.