Lost Creek Hollow Butterflyfish

Crowfeather’s features were sharp, pointed upon Germanicus, intense. His dark whiskers flicked forward, eyelashes fluttering over honeywarm eyes.

The silver eagle would fly home to Mereo.

Without warning, fear seized Crowfeather. One step was placed tentatively toward the older man. Fear, fear, fear – it flooded inside of him like a storm surge. Once, he had spoken of his promises in the dark of Akashingo. His breath had been nothing more than a warm whisper. His words had been all that had pushed Crowfeather through the cloud of darkness.

He had promised they would travel east, together. Then, he had vanished with Ruenna. In the time he had been gone, they had made a family together. They had children. Germanicus had promised that he would return to Akashingo and he had never done so. The burning of Crowfeather’s fear licked hot at the back of his throat. He did not want to reveal his fright. He did not want to spoil this moment, this moment that he had waited for-

I trust you, his voice cracked, uttered like a fragile leaf falls from the tree in autumn.

Crowfeather could not allow his fright to ruin this. The negativity, the anxiousness, it could be forgotten in favor of this warm light. It shone through the cracks of the shadow’s heart with yellow light.

Come, come, his nose nudged beneath the man’s chin. A smile lifted the features of the tripod. For the first time in many months, the expression reached his eyes. Let me treat your wounds. Let me show you Riverclan.

And oh, how his heart sang.

If this was only a dream, Crowfeather wished it to be his last.