Lion Head Mesa quamdiu

germanicus had not returned to his rooms. he had not slept. he avoided all except when pharaoh demanded his company as chief royal tactician.

he hated the name of it. he hated the pretension of akashingo. he hated the growing courts and the way that the egyptian commanded control over a war he would not be going to fight.

and yet it was all he knew. that was the sum of it. the eagle gravitated toward conflict for it was his one skill. and crowfeather had come to this point and had asked him. but germanicus had not realized it then.

when he thought of the shadow his spirit became taut. 

the imperator stood upon the mesa and surveyed the landscape, a sentry to guide the sun into the sky.

that steely golden gaze; she recognizes it.

she thinks he'll recognize her auburn coat, too, as she climbs the hill to meet him, giving a wordless chuff of greeting along the way. she pulls alongside, coat caught by the breeze, her mother's gaze hard and cold upon the horizon.

she glances, sidelong, at the man. she'd not seen him since she was a pup. how much things had changed.

is he on their side?

a flash of autumn caught the imperator's peripheral. 

the last time he had seen this girl she had been only a child. now she carried herself with purpose and a careful step.

the ursus wolf was quiet save for a hushed greeting. her eyes were locked upon the sunspire. and the eagle did not yet know that the bearwolves had already gone out as spies.

"i am sorry for the death of your mother." the utterance was quiet. it encircled them.

she swallows but nods, looking away. she isn't ready to talk about the loss of Astara yet. perhaps, if she keeps it tucked it away, it will be as if it never happened.

but. . .no. it can't be that way. Merrick takes it too seriously.

she casts her head in a semicircle across the rocks, then her eyes dart back to the man, questioning. you live here, now? once, he had sought a place in Ursus. did he intend to fight, or was he one of the others?

she lets out her breath in a long sigh, staring away, lips pursed and the air streaming her lips through hard and fast.

so much had changed.

her eyes said a good deal.

"this is my home for now. when this is over, i will move on."

germanicus gestured toward the horizon as her breath sounded. "have you been to those mountains?" he asked. her company was a welcomed distraction from his own internal muttering.

perhaps they might find a common ground in the landscape soon to be traveled.

she gestures in assent at his question, mouth quirking in a half-grimace. oh, yes, she'd been there. and nearly lost her life for it, the bear rearing his ugly head at the exact wrong time. and had she been able to do it, had she been able to find Nyra. . .

the grimace turns to an ugly scowl, and her eyes grow suddenly dark.

teeth show, white and gleaming, as her lips curl upward. she casts another glance at the soldier, catching him in her periphery, though her head is still turned toward the crags.

will you fight? that single, burning orb asks, beckoning an answer.

anger overtook the crimson features. 

she too was a creature of much emotion. she was like her father in this.

unlike merrick however she did not grow loud and hateful and warlike.

yet germanicus knew she was prepared. the red ursus wolf questioned him with her peculiar eyes.

"i will fight."