Lost Creek Hollow venustas

the sky had turned to the color of rich butter when germanicus, quitting his duties for the evening, came upon a green place which flowed with clear water, inhabited by trees that seemed to bear the sky as if they were the shoulders of the one called atlas. 

the guard drifted near and into the inviting, graceful shade of the verdant place. down from whitebark, he had passed the borders of a pack he did not know, but suspected was one of artyom's allies. another who guarded a circle of ancient stones. pagans, he decided, with a snort; but they were all heathens.

even snowdriven young @Ico. here germanicus crooned a low note, meant to pitch toward the curvature of ursus and, by the will of the gods, to the ear he wished to bend.