Hushed Willows it’s a most unusual day

In fact, he frowned, though not because of what he’d gone through these past few days. He looked at the few feathers still scattered on the ground and felt guilt chewing at him. Cambria quietly crushed them into the dirt, though Wyvern had probably already noticed them.

Sorry, he murmured to the sleeping nighthawk as he patted down the soil.

He began to sit up then, arching his head toward the canopy as he stretched his neck and spine. When he lowered it again, he jumped a little at the sight of a stranger stalking toward him. Although he offered a polite woof, Cambria cursed inwardly. He wanted nothing to do with, well, anyone.

He said nothing as the gray male closed in, looming over Cambria despite the yearling’s tall stature. The Dragonling checked his posture, keeping it as neutral as possible, but didn’t hesitate to glance into the other man’s face as he tried to read the intent there.

Overhead, Wyvern clacked her beak as if to say, I’m here.