Lion Head Mesa lectus

"yes."

there was more unsaid. he wanted to turn his face away before crowfeather saw the tension of his jawline and saw the words behind his mouth.

germanicus sighed into the close, medicinal air of the little room.

"i think you must mend until spring. i think — perhaps we will not know until spring."

his voice ached. his heart ached. he had seen such grievous injuries before. that crowfeather breathed and spoke and lived now was a tribute to slate's skill.

"pharaoh has — suggested that i claim the canyon where the saints once lived. as an outpost."

the yellowgold eyes slid to the shadow's face.