Lion Head Mesa Within the garden gates

crowfeather was notably upset.


germanicus gave the shadow the courtesy of his attention, though his jaw tensed to think that the boy did not believe himself useful unless he was upon the field of battle.


his voice was sharper than it had ever been. it sliced at the eagle. and now he was accused of guilting the boy.

"i cannot stop you, crowfeather." his stare was unwavering. "and i cannot stop thinking of the woman you have tended each day since we have been here. i cannot stop thinking of her and how it might next be you. i cannot," the eagle went on, and now he stood to his paws, activated and restless and aggrieved, "think of you being maimed or killed in some conflict that has nothing to do with either of us."

"you are invaluable. to everyone. to — me. especially to me." the eagle struggled. "i do not want to see you harmed in any way. stay here where the saints cannot reach you. please."

his words had come out disjointed. germanicus was undone. in the face of the shadow's wrath, he felt he had permanently marred the surface of their bond.

satsu's words rang upon him again. was it a testament to the power of the queen or the fact that perhaps the imperator had been wrong to ever guide crowfeather from the hinterlands?