Foggy Bottom Way [m] las estrellas

But she was wrong. 

Crowfeather had been searching. Maybe for a piece of himself. Maybe for the man he loved. He had ventured out beyond the riverland and into desert. He had lifted his haunting gaze in hopes that he might find the piece of him that felt as though it had been carved clean from his chest - carnal, with a fist gripped so tight he could never hope to fight back. 

The dark star did not find the piece he sought. He did not find signs of his missing son. He did not find Germanicus. And as he walked the unfamiliar terrain, he considered never going home. It was as though he had always been meant to flee into the dark. 

The hoarse cry lifted his sharp features. He knew the voice, but not in this way. Something like a cold chill swept through him. On three legs he raced until he saw her. As Crowfeather stood yards from where Silvertongue suffered, he was disgusted and shocked at himself for feeling satisfaction.