Moonspear And Smitten the Nightingale had Become.

arcturus had questions, but dared not ask them -- he had enough sense to know, too much poking about his barbed sister, and he was bound to hit thorns. feeling a hiccup press his throat, arcturus wiped his chin on a paw and grunted. by now hydra would be used to the boy's lack of verbosity; it was not that he was no longer interested, but that he was still processing things in a systematic manner.

he followed after her sister as she spread her scent along zafina's vile conflagration; arcturus did not lift his leg in retaliation, but he did rub his shoulders against any sort of landmark he could, as if to say to hell with the lot of you; moonspear was his home, and as he got older, he liked strangers less and less.