Lion Head Mesa Covered in gold, forgetting my skin

In all the confusion, Crowfeather found a moment of relief in Germanicus’ diplomatic voice, reaching out and speaking to the stranger with orange eyes.

The orange-eyed wolf knew Satsu, called her a queen, and even spoke of her fondness for the injured shadow. This confused Crowfeather further, for he had no memory of his friend stepping into royalty. The last he could recall of her; she had showed him how to guide the dead to safe passage. They had constructed small items in the forest. She’d used a specific word – he couldn’t remember it.

Sssihaya, the dark wolf repeated, tongue whistling the wolf’s name through missing teeth. The orange-eyed fellow had said that he had been looking for Crowfeather. The seer blinked several times, shaking his head. The narrow length of his snout pointed toward Germanicus questioningly. Sihaya was not a name from the Starsea, so there must have been a mistake. The orange-eyed wolf could not have been looking for Crowfeather.

Another unfamiliar shape appeared. The woman was sharp with her tongue, defensive, and she provided soaked moss and mice at his paws. Crowfeather looked to her fearfully, his dark ears falling to lay flat on his head. He scooped a single mouse up in his teeth and swallowed it without chewing. The water in the moss caused his throat to ache, a painful dryness.

Th- Th- Thank you, he whispered, hoping that only the woman would hear his pathetic uttering.