Blackfeather Woods He's the one who left home; I'm the one who stayed

A voice called out in the wood. Crowfeather stiffened, fearful that he had already been found by the wolves of Akashingo. The thought of Ramesses’ gaze upon him sent fear coursing through his limbs. In that moment, the shadow thought he might have the strength to run a bit further.

Shifting against the jabbing of branches in his haunch, the dark figure’s snout emerged from his hiding place. The honey yellow of his eyes followed, latching onto the man who had called out.

A scoff hung on the tip of his tongue but did not leave his mouth.

It doesn’t matter. His voice was cracked, soft and weak. What did this man care?