The Sunspire All these lost halos wash away

I sleep where I drop for the night. He answers sharply, refuting this first order given to him as an auxillary from his general. Quills rising over his shoulders.

If he had true freedom he would be able to enforce at least this much. Glaukos would never again sequester himself in such a tight space as a den, not when it reminded him so vehemently of the crevasse upon Moonglow's cliffside.

Prowling on, shoulders tense but easing in their expression as the fur smoothed, Glaukos looked along the ridge of copper rocks. If the night is cold I will endure it. Better that than crawling in the dirt.