Bramblepoint Blue spotted tail

the chill wove through germanicus. he was at once cool, then warm, too warm, near perspiring. whatever crowfeather had said must wait, for the eagle had stepped just beyond sensibility.

this time, however, he raised his own head above that of the hunter. germanicus wavered, breath warm and touch careful as he plucked a spider's-wrap from along the shadow's earlobe.

and then he separated himself from crowfeather, a breath spurred through his nose. in the scarce light that filtered through the thornwood, germanicus lay down, a stretch of something like moonlit forest.

"it is not your pretty glen. but perhaps we will find the beauty of this place in dreams."