Lost Creek Hollow procedo

The scent of his travels was worn on his coat. The mingling of Kvarsheim and the creek were among the recognizable scents.

The son was healing beneath the care of Faun. Crowfeather nodded his snout, confident that the healer would be capable of tending to the boy’s wounds. He wondered if Germanicus would try to build a relationship with his son. Uncertainty kept him from asking. He swallowed the queries and breathed heavily into the silver-flecked fur of the man he loved.

You know you do not have to promise yourself to Riverclan, cracked his voice.

You will always have a place here. If you want it. It was a deceptively simple thing for the shadow to say. I- I only mean that… if you want to scout, to be a ranger-

Crowfeather’s cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. Germanicus did not need the star’s permission.