Stars glittered overhead – a clear night sky.
Akashingo was asleep, or most of them had nestled down into their beds for the night. Crowfeather had remained awake and hurting. The time he had spent with Belen had vanished from his mind. He had only wanted to give her something proper. The seer did not want to leave the way he had been left. She had been kind and sweet.
As the wounded wolf dragged his crippled body back to the borders of the mesa, he turned his head over his shoulder once to check for followers. The terrain stretched out before him in a blue-red glow, illuminated only by the moon and the stars overhead. There were no figures in pursuit. It was on the edge of the Pharaoh’s land that Crowfeather paused and tried to catch his breath.
For two years, he had denied his ability as a seer. He had doubted the gifts that had been given to him as a child – dreams were only dreams, after all. But Crowfeather could not help but to think back on his conversations with the older man.
Crowfeather had said that he would make a good leader. Germanicus had denied it, claiming it was not what he desired for himself… but Mereo stood strong.
Crowfeather had said that he would make a good father. He had daydreamed images of little dark-furred babies who trailed after him, who idolized him. The shadow had been certain when he had said it. Even this was doubted by the silver eagle.
Now, he was a man who was married – a man who stood as the leader of his own clan.
A man who would have children.
Crowfeather fixed his gaze north. He did not care where he went. He did not care what happened. He only knew that he could not remain in Akashingo.
Akashingo was asleep, or most of them had nestled down into their beds for the night. Crowfeather had remained awake and hurting. The time he had spent with Belen had vanished from his mind. He had only wanted to give her something proper. The seer did not want to leave the way he had been left. She had been kind and sweet.
As the wounded wolf dragged his crippled body back to the borders of the mesa, he turned his head over his shoulder once to check for followers. The terrain stretched out before him in a blue-red glow, illuminated only by the moon and the stars overhead. There were no figures in pursuit. It was on the edge of the Pharaoh’s land that Crowfeather paused and tried to catch his breath.
For two years, he had denied his ability as a seer. He had doubted the gifts that had been given to him as a child – dreams were only dreams, after all. But Crowfeather could not help but to think back on his conversations with the older man.
Crowfeather had said that he would make a good leader. Germanicus had denied it, claiming it was not what he desired for himself… but Mereo stood strong.
Crowfeather had said that he would make a good father. He had daydreamed images of little dark-furred babies who trailed after him, who idolized him. The shadow had been certain when he had said it. Even this was doubted by the silver eagle.
Now, he was a man who was married – a man who stood as the leader of his own clan.
A man who would have children.
Crowfeather fixed his gaze north. He did not care where he went. He did not care what happened. He only knew that he could not remain in Akashingo.
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