Redtail Rise israfel

his rugged, patchwork form is vibrant against the evening shadows; she feels a swell of pride at his appearance. Prophet's son, no doubt—but more than that, he's hers. and will always be hers, or so she hopes.

whatever tragedy or cowardice had befallen Prophet to take him from them. . .she vows her son will not meet the same fate.

lifh' your headh, Avicus says after accepting his greeting, meeting his crimson eyes dead-on. 

nearly full-grown, battle-scarred, self-assured—

he's ready.

i wan' you be our new warlordh. our Ber'hherkr. 

there's no need for 'will you accept?' she knows he will.