Lion Head Mesa Within the garden gates

The movements had been faster than Crowfeather had expected. One beat of his heart and Germanicus was upon him, rough, shoving him back into the wall of the cavern where the dark wolf yelped in shock. His dark frame cowered against the heat of the man’s breath, his figure hunched low to the ground, the shadow did not dare to look at the silver man. Fear bubbled up in his throat like boiling water.

All the things he had wished to say, but nothing came out.

Crowfeather watched as Germanicus turned sharply to retreat from his own den. The shadow was left behind, pressed tightly to the wall, breathing heavily. An ache gripped his heart and chest. Even pulling air into his lungs filled him with pain, filled him with sadness.

Germanicus would not allow him to go to battle. Germanicus would not allow him to go to war.

Crowfeather slipped from the man’s den a short time later, his mind churning with desperation.