Lost Creek Hollow paratus

germanicus was weighed with all he had not said and all that he could not say.

there was only the fiercest love in his heart for crowfeather, and the intensity of it was something that surged untameably.

but there was also the farflung measure of his many sins.

"gunnar accepts me as i am. i hunt for what is needed and have made myself useful."

empty.

he kissed the dark face, once, twice.