He watched the girl from the top of a rise with interest. Samael’s children had been oddities and because of who their father was, avoided. Yet Enkiel had made himself known to the Aquila, constantly asking for help with practicing wounds, for advice on who to talk to , and Gabriel was glad to see it. Inferni needed medics. Even if their warriors were many, a wound would kill. He had seen it before. Scintilla had lost many a good coyote to infection before Jezebel had arrived.
“Uncle Gabriel!” Speak of the devil. The Aquila turned his head and spotted the golden jackal approaching quickly. It still amazed him how small the boy was, but the young man had accepted his size as a disadvantage and stepped up in filling the large gap left by Corona. “Hello Enkiel,” the dark man replied, turning his attention back to the girl on the beach. “Eris told me that she saw some poppies in the forest south of here. Do you think I could take someone with me to gather them before they freeze?” A distracted nod. Finally, Enkiel saw what his gruff uncle was watching.
Surprise shot through the boy like lightning. He stood up straight, large ears rising atop his head. Gabriel smiled and rose to his feet. “Come on,” he said. The pair trotted down into the sand, where the Aquila called out to his newest Hastati. “Practice?”
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