Whitebark Stream adamo

the vestal had been troubled upon their last meet, and germanicus felt within him only a welling of annoyance for whatever had occurred to cause the sensation. ico deserved peace. the soldier planted his paws within the cool stream, muzzle poised to descend toward whatever fish arrived.

the trout jerked away at the sound of a voice, and germanicus narrowed his eyes only slightly toward the surface of the stream, turning to see the mahogany woman approaching. "célnes," he greeted. the name hung on his tongue, heavy, unfamiliar. 

heathen. 

"you and your siblings have settled well?" he inquired, straightening to join the newcomer with a past he knew only to be touched by ash.