Redsand Canyon prehendo

the tears; the tears drew germanicus a step forth and then another.

"fennec." his voice was a husky plead, for what he did not know. "i blame you for nothing. and it was not you who lied."

she trembled. the eagle moved closer, in range of the imperatrix' teeth now should she flash them upon him in a deserved rage.

"i lied to myself. and in doing that, in believing it, i told the same to you."

the fact of recognition. the fact of admission. the fact of crowfeather, the shadow who had ridden in the corners of his mind all these years.

"i am sorry, fennec. i do not — expect your forgiveness. but i will say truly that i am."

the yellowpaint eyes tightening in the face of fennec's tears; he remembered how in anger and in grief they had clashed upon that path and how it had transformed him once more.