Lion Head Mesa tenax

I do not want you to… hold your desires in check, he repeated the man’s words back to him with distaste on his tongue.

The feeling of being on rough water was not one Crowfeather had ever experienced, but he imagined it was something akin to how he felt in that moment. The shadow did not know why he expressed his wishes to the older man. Germanicus was a stubborn individual. He was headstrong and knowing. It gave him assurance in what he was familiar with. The young seer was not a familiar thing, and neither were the words he longed to confess to the soldier.

Crowfeather sighed softly and shook his head.

I only want you- he felt his throat stick, the words didn’t finish.

… you to be happy.

The yearling’s cheeks burned hot. Crowfeather did not know if there were words enough in all the languages in the world to ease Germanicus’ mind. Even as he fought with his own confession, the dark wolf felt shame. It was his fault that they were in this mess, or so he believed. If he had listened to the older man, had heeded his words and concealed his feelings better… perhaps.

Whatever that might look like.

Crowfeather rested his head upon his paws, believing that Germanicus would not want to remain there any longer than he already had. Back to the quiet, back to the lonely process of healing.