Altar of Twilight A shooting star

That warm rough laugh again. Crowfeather’s neck felt tight, this throat unable to swallow.

Even at the mention of the boar tasting as rank as they smelled, the dark wolf did not wish to end their hunt, or to seek other options. He wanted to demonstrate his willingness, his desire to prove himself. The narrow features shook to answer and he provided a softly spoken, no.

Let’s find one. I’ll try it… with you, the seer added breathily. No matter their prey, there would be comfort and pleasure derived from the animal that was fallen by their teeth. To share that with Germanicus was a powerful motivation.