Stone Circle i have often dreamed of a far off place

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the boy’s name, the girl’s unease, the wind carrying the scent of a mother somewhere close; he took it all in with one long,  breath.

the badger lay between his paws, its blood drying against the dark of his muzzle. he nudged it once with the side of his nose, wordless reminder it was meant for them, not him. then he pushed himself upright, broad shoulders rolling like old thunder coming awake.

he stepped forward just enough that the sun caught the planes of his face  scarred, thin, lichenbone strong. 

smoke, he said, voice carrying low across the grass, nothing else tied to it. no explanation. no comfort. just a name dropped like a stone into still water.

then he settled again beside the ginger female, unmoving, tail giving one slow flick to show he wasn’t there to corner or crowd.

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