Lost Creek Hollow you will never know

A warrior was known, of course. Crowfeather had grown through his childhood in constant fascination with warriors and their duties. The term priest was foreign to him. He understood that there were men of many beliefs. He had learned as much during his time in Akashingo. The dark Star could not expect them to be familiar, for their customs to be a comfortable thing to him.

Ingram assisted by calling himself something of an oxymoron.

A priest and warrior were somewhat opposite, then. Crowfeather grew hopeful. There would be plenty of work for the man in Riverclan.

It’s hard to stop someone from going after what they love, the tripod said, voice quavering slightly with his knowing in this subject. But I will personally help tend to her. We can shower her in warmth, now that you’re both- both-

Crowfeather felt silly, suddenly.

Home.