Firefly Glen Nighttime coming

It's just a little further.

The dark figure said to the silver guard. His speech was garbled as the sharp young wolf carried a stick with thick webbing on it and curious yellow flowers. Crowfeather knew the den he had found was perfect for a night of rest. It was serendipitous to think that he had stumbled upon a site where wolves had settled before. Several items had been left behind to suggest as much. 

When he pushed through the bracken and into a small clearing, the dark wolf breathed a short sigh of relief. He had found it again. Crowfeather stepped further toward the mouth of a large den site. The shadow turned his searching eyes back to where @Germanicus would be. His breath was held.

your power is in conquering pain. your power is in mastering it. when the enemy can no longer inflict agony upon you, they have nothing. that is when you rise.

a muffled echo of this in germanicus as he marched silently after crowfeather.

there were dozens of fireflies here, and they lit the young hunter's countenance as he turned back to look at germanicus. there was no lack of concern there. the eagle did not want it to become pity. 

he cast the quiet observation of his sun-soft stare toward the tangled thickness of foliage above them. before him, the mouth of a cave gaped. they were not the first to stop here. germanicus spent another long minute watching each shadow, and then moved carefully forward, settling beside the den's opening. 

crowfeather carried something, and the guard followed the object with his gaze.

Germanicus reviewed the location silently. Crowfeather waited with baited breath as the silver male made his way to the mouth of the den and settled there. 

The shadow took a step forward and placed the branch at his paws. He did not want to approach Germanicus unless allowed, not this time. Crowfeather could not help the heightened awareness he had to their proximity. 

W- will you let me dress your- 

He had not wanted it to be called an injury. Crowfeather blinked and looked to the crusted red mark on Germanicus' foreleg.

the tactician looked down at the branch with its pale mesh and bright flowers. he could make no sense of it, except that one was to staunch. germanicus possessed only rudimentary skills in this regard: he could keep himself alive if wounded, but the nuance of it escaped him.

the depth of this gouge meant little if infection filled it with disease.

"yes," the eagle said, and turned himself so that his forearm was more presented. his eyes lifted away, watching the bobbing circlets of light dance around the trees.

he wondered what sort of people had made this land their own.

With permission granted, the shadow grabbed his fixings and approached the extended limb with sharp eyes. 

Mothwing had taught him a lot of what she had learned within her early months as a healer. She had been so sharp and swift at adapting to the work that most had considered her to be a prodigy. Crowfeather believed in her at his core. Her death had carried him from home easily, like a breeze drawing snowflakes. 

Chewing the yellow flower with a sour expression, Crowfeather offered one apologetic glance into the canary color of Germanicus' gaze before he spat it onto the wound. It was disgusting, but he wasted little time before working to apply the webs on the cut. The scent of blood and flowers was surprising, strange. 

Finished, the dark wolf stepped back and stared unabashedly at Germanicus.

crowfeather began to work over his wound.

it was more fussiness than germanicus would have ever given himself. the floral scent mingled with the fragrance of copper, lifting in a fragrance that slowly dissipated between them.

crowfeather retreated, and the ranger inspected the mended edges of his wound, the poultice that the shadow had applied. "ager medicus," he muttered, impressed once more at the boy's latent range of skills.

"i am your willing patient." the watchful expression lifted carefully to that of crowfeather.

A fleeting smile danced along his dark snout. 

Crowfeather felt the budding sense of pride for the first time. The webbing clung to Germanicus' fur well and held the floral goop in place nicely. Mothwing would have been proud of him, he was sure. For the first time since he had placed the marker with the woman in the swamp, he wondered if their directions had worked. 

I have not changed my mind, the young wolf announced. It was a sudden statement, one he had not fully been prepared to make. A nervous wave found the end of his tail. I do not have regrets. 

It might have seemed odd for him to have reiterated his previous promise. If one of them was to have changed their mind, it was more likely to have been Germanicus. After all, he had been the one to suffer the injury. It had been the boy's foolishness that had caused them to halt their journey and wait for his leg to heal. 

I will not leave, he held back from his tongue.

there was a small smile, and then crowfeather was reiterating himself to germanicus. the eagle watched him for a long moment, noting the import of the words spoken.

but more than that, he saw the small gesture of tail, the way that the young medic stood near and met his own eye. 

germanicus was silent. the throb of his torn flesh had ebbed somewhat. "i will not ask again you again if you are regretful, crowfeather." 

this time, the corners of his mouth lifted, and he lay back against the grass. in time he would make his way to the shelter's darkness. for now the tactician wished to stay as he was.

At once, Crowfeather was weak. His body felt the harshness of their day together. The dark figure stood still a moment longer and found a place a few feet away from the silver wolf. 

Crowfeather settled into a relaxed position. It was here that his gaze followed the bobbing lights. He traced them in the air. 

It is like the Starsea here. Like my old home, he shared. There was not nearly as much water, but the flickering light was unmistakable.

the starsea. germanicus scribbled the name into his thoughts, tucked it behind a proverbial fold of armor. "they have been your companions, the stars."

when crowfeather had admitted to wandering through the darkness, he had found it bemusing. worrisome. but now, with so intimate a title, germanicus recalled all the mentions of starlight he had ever heard the shadow utter.

Yes, as much as they could be, the shadow answered. 

The nights Crowfeather had walked through would not have been made possible without the guiding light from the cosmos. Even if he had not known where they carried him, he had been lonely and they were always there. 

My family believed I was one of them. A star. It is a sacred honor, they'd said to me. 

Crowfeather was not sure what Germanicus would make of that information. It must have sounded like a children's tale to the stoic guardian. Then again, maybe that's all it had ever been.

crowfeather watched the skies. germanicus watched the dark-smoke figure, though soon turned himself to the same. 

a low and insistent goading of instinct. 

crowfeather's people worshipped the stars and bestowed them as sacred honor upon chosen ones. he had two names, and one that tied him to the cawing obsidian birds.

his mother had guided him, and germanicus wondered if she had been a witch or shaman.

"you are a pagan then." the eagle stared at the burning universe stretched domelike over them, though he hardly saw their beauty.

The word used by Germanicus was foreign to Crowfeather. The dark seer had never heard such a term. This was unsurprising to a boy who knew very few terms that had been spoken by his silver guard. 

Pagan, he thought with a curious expression. He was not sure if that was what suit him, if it was the word to describe what he was. 

I am not sure I know what I am, Germanicus, Crowfeather admitted to him slowly. 

The belief of the Starsea had been everything to his home pack. They had raised him on religion, expected him to thrive. Who was to blame for his failure?

germanicus had instructed himself in this one before. all he met would be pagans. did he not even once serve as guard to an antlered king?

but this was different, somehow. crowfeather said his name once more, and germanicus drew an audible breath. "we are auxilia. it would only matter if you wanted to be part of a legion."

tension limned the silver tracery of his body. the eagle was silent and brooding alongside crowfeather. a moment dashed, and germanicus was deeply ashamed he had been the one to do it.

Can one be a soldier if they are alone?

The query was made to his paws, for Crowfeather could not quite meet the gaze of the stony man. 

How had Germanicus gone so long as a soldier and nothing more that he could not feel the hardship of being on his own? Crowfeather could not believe that to be true, not with his heart. It was a thought that would eradicate any hope he had left within him.

"not anyone." there was a sadness set on his mouth now. germanicus returned to the stars. "if you were not reared to be a soldier, you cannot be one at heart."

weariness stole over the ranger, as much from the injury leaching him as their confusing conversation.

"i will take the first watch." germanicus invited no argument, sun-gaze turned to cool light by the moon and stars hanging over their bower. he must rest. but the eagle was not nearly so injured that he could not defend them.

There is no hope for a boy like you, he thought.

The more information that Germanicus shared on the life and duty of a soldier, the more doubtful Crowfeather had grown. He knew that it was unlikely he would ever be as dutiful and strong as the man across from him.

Crowfeather also knew that he did not wish to see Germanicus leave.

If it was a soldier that the guardian needed, it would be a soldier that Crowfeather would become.

Not at all tired, the boy looked one last time toward the male and rested his head on his paws with eyes closed. Sleep did not find him for several hours.