Stone Circle macellarius

Germanicus looks like he could use a soft friend <3 

Skáld remained oblivious of what had happened when the gathering of wolves from their friendly packs had come together. Words of witches, curses, a traitor- they all went over his head. He had no words for these concepts, not even in his own tongue. Skáld spoke of, and thought of, the little things- and remained as much a child as he had always been. 

The dandelions had flowered, and now they'd turned to orbs of seeds waiting to be blown away on the wind...Or helped along with the bat of a paw. With a giggle, Skáld went from one dandelion stalk to the next, sending the seeds flying with either a puff of warm air, or with a smack of his paw. He did not realize he'd wandered toward the borders, but did not cross them. He meandered along them instead, following the breeze so that he sent the seedlings flying on their feathery little umbrellas before him.