Lion Head Mesa I recall you, I recall when

It seemed that the prince of the Starsea was every bit as fearful as he had been when he lived among his clan. The warrior heaved a sigh, shoulders sagging, and lifted his eyes to the room where they had left Crowfeather to heal.

There was plenty of space there, furs, a window into the sky. Foxfur frowned slightly when the seer had finished speaking. He was under the impression that he would never return to his clan. The warrior could not help but to snort with his frustration. He was tired of the games, and he wished to leave the unfamiliarity of the Pharaoh’s claim.

Why must you travel east? Are you aiming to prove yourself as a warrior? Running away is not the way to do that, Crowfeather. Your role is not that of a clan’s defender.

They’d had enough chat about wants and desires. Foxfur wished for a bed and a warm meal.

I cannot return without you. Whitestar will be most displeased. I will not be eligible for the deputy position without finding you and bringing you home. A small nod, as if to say that their talk had been concluded and there would be no further discussion of the matter.