Broken Boulder Who carries a mighty sword,

pragmatic as ever, germanicus had not meant to follow. he would remain as a guardian out-of-doors. her invitation, then, only invited a briefly confused look. in the next moment the centurion had paced closer, eyed the stone edges that did not come together, and the glint of her torchlight eyes glinting with encouragement in the dim grey beyond.

gathering himself, the soldier slipped into the natural archway, finding his path narrow and pelt brushing against that of the woman's own. a flick of his ear in apology, and then he put his senses to exploration. small stones against the pads of his feet. air hanging close and stale in one place, and then refreshed with taiga-green wind in another.

he squinted at a patch of mushrooms, pausing to consider their edibility.