Redsand Canyon You've only known the ones who leave at dawn

the connection of their bodies was familiar and brought to mind a thousand memories of the travel they had taken together. before mereo. before akashingo. before germanicus had seen fit to devote himself to the one thing he knew he could do well. 

for what had he been honed? for what had he been made? panic had made the initial choice for him. first the fear that he could not watch crowfeather dwindle and die behind the muted haze of memories that had seemed lost.

and secondly the intrinsic hounding edict of legacy in the measure of a man. germanicus had not after all expected to meet someone anything akin to who and what ruenna was. he had expected that between he and a wife there might only be coolness and a sense of duty that extended a handful of times a year to their bedchamber. it had been what he had known of his own parentage.

harder then, to admit he had flourished in his time away from akashingo.

"i could never forget you." the eagle's jaw felt wired and stiff. kallik's attentiveness on the border was ironic, as he had only just jested about it in the hours leading up to the birth of his children. "i will be well without it, legatus," the roman assured. "later i may need the help of our medicus."

later. 

his yellowpaint eyes sought the path ahead. he though his heart might be pierced by the roughened way that crowfeather had begun to weep. they must be alone even if the aloneness held that same wormwood edge.