Fairspell Meadow novus

The dark wolf was bent to sniff at the wet grass, dappling his whiskers and nose in a few droplets of dew. When Crowfeather looked up to Germanicus, he smiled.

It was nice that they had moved beyond the mountains. While they had provided some sense of security, the Saints were still prominent in the area and had left an uneasy feeling in the pit of the seer’s belly. Crowfeather was almost grateful that Germanicus had instructed them to move on.

Trotting up to the silver guard’s side, Crowfeather peered at his profile with interest.

What is on your mind?