Swiftcurrent Creek tomorrow’s kings

Cambria sipped in a breath too at Etienne’s bittersweet opener. He hung on the other man’s every word, sussing out the unspoken context. Some of these wolves—his grandmothers, for instance—must be dead and gone, he surmised just a moment before Etienne revealed this truth. It sounded like much of his family was otherwise scattered to the wind.

Thank you for sharing that with me, the young Dragonling murmured, but sorry if it dredged up any grief…

What was it like, to have loved and lost? Cambria had never had a meaningful relationship in his life. It was hard to imagine such a thing, then losing it, moreover. It only took one long look at Etienne’s face to begin comprehending the breadth and depth of such loss.

He felt suddenly afraid. He was already so fond of Etienne. What if he did lose him, for one reason or another? A great sense of melancholy swept over him. Cambria would never willingly abandon this friendship they were fostering, though what if it happened because of circumstances beyond his control?

He froze there on the shore of the lovely little lake, the breath snatched from his lungs as he realized he had something precious to lose for the first time in his life.