Fox's Glade oh guard the pounding sound

mona's lips twitched into a frown of worry as indra's ears splayed and the talk of resolution broke from the russet jaws. for a long moment after her friend — were they that yet? — had ended her speech, quiet stretched between the pair. it seemed as if indra did not want mona to pry, and so while the words beaded on her tongue, she did not let them roll forth. curiosity vied with mannerliness, and it was the latter that won.
"well, if you change your mind, you can talk to me," mona offered, maybe a bit more abruptly than she had intended. for a moment, silence descended and words evaded her. and then — "i want to leave tindome because i have no desire to be married." her words hung and the confidence she'd had uttering them ebbed; mona set her jaw lest she say another unsolicited and altogether awkward thing.