Lost Creek Hollow meus

Crowfeather had haunted the edges of Riverclan, eager to see when the silver eagle would fly home again. He had not eaten much in the ranger’s time away. His body had grown lean and sharp. His eyes were creased with worry. 

The things that Silvertongue had said… 

When he saw the somber yellow of Germanicus gaze, he thought he had been conjured out of longing. Crowfeather halted in his tracks. His heart bounced into his throat, beating so fiercely that it could have choked the life from him. 

Swift as a hare, Crowfeather rushed toward Germanicus. His nose found the man’s chest and he buried himself there, tears springing to his eyes.