Lion Head Mesa I'm coming home again, all alone

The whisper from the girl clawed at him.

Where?

Crowfeather shook his head to her, sniffing back the snot that lingered on the lip of his nose. He shook his head twice, shoulders sagging. There were too many memories in Akashingo. There were too many places where he could see Germanicus. But everything in the mesa had lost his scent. Even the Fellahin did not know him.

Somewhere far… far from here.

For Crowfeather had only ever been good at one thing: running.