Lion Head Mesa tenax

He was okay, or so he said. The last statement felt fractured, as though he could not force the remainder of it from his mouth. Crowfeather did not wish to draw it from him. Whatever feelings the eagle had; it would be fine. This assurance was repeated in his mind while the silence filled the space of the room they shared.

When Germanicus spoke again, it was to ask if Crowfeather remembered the night he had forbid him to travel to the Sunspire.

A breath fell from the dark wolf’s lips. He shook his head, even though it was not entirely truth. Pieces had returned to him in his recovery. Time spent alone had allowed his memory to restore portions that had been missing, just not enough.

I remember… only a few words, Crowfeather whispered in reply. His chest felt tight.

I remember… anger.

Who had caused it? He was unsure. Still, he could not help but to feel the guilt that rose in his throat.

We spoke… of death?