Lion Head Mesa Covered in gold, forgetting my skin

There were many things happening in such a small space. Crowfeather’s gaze darted from one wolf to another as they spoke. His ears flattened to his head at the sharp response from the woman who appeared to have been tending to him. The shadow recoiled slightly, shocked at the goings on, confused about where he was, and weary in ways that he did not feel sleep could resolve.

When Crowfeather looked to Germanicus, it was pleadingly. He wanted the others to leave. He wanted to know what had happened. The confusion was clear upon his features. He was desperate for any understanding, but his mind was dark and foggy. The memories that he could recall readily were not clear. Fractions of conversations could be uncovered, but there was no context for them. Crowfeather did not know if his mind was making them up.

The woman asked if he needed help eating.

Crowfeather blinked at her fearfully.

I- I’m ssorry, he whistled as he spoke. I am hungrier than I thought. The dark wolf did not want this poor woman to have to chew his food. When he selected the next small prey animal, it was done delicately. His stomach lurched, but he picked at it with his teeth and swallowed slowly. Crowfeather could feel his stomach, as though it was reaching out in desperation for the food.