Bearclaw Valley I’m your toy, I’m your toy, I’m your toy

dourly she looked at the gift he endowed upon her -- indra was not used to such supplication, but it did not soften her features. she glanced from the mangled carcass to his broad face, no sign of relenting in her frosty glare.

she was lucky he was so forthright in his question, otherwise, they may have remained rigidly in silence as she was certainly not going to vulnerably offer the first word. she reminded herself of how she felt when he left her - deliberately left her. it was possible she was behaving like a spoiled brat, but having never felt rejection's cold cut before, she had no way to cope with it.

the rabbit, small offering as it was, remained untouched for now. "you don't think i'm as pretty as her." she answered in accusation, delivering a cat's cold stare as she spoke.