Bearclaw Valley now that i'm old, i breathe for it

indra's mouth formed in a pursed expression of surprise as the cat employed a rather rancid brand of sarcasm in response to her query. she flickered her gaze from the gamine-legged feline to the snow-studded copse, as if reassessing her surroundings. she did not think she was dreaming, and her amber gaze slowly pulled back to the prickly creature.

she tensed as the cat drew nearer, but the physical pressure of her tap was enough to puncture any doubt indra had welled: this was real. she stiffened, drawing back as she did not care for the feline's proximity -- or the laughs she kept uttering. it made indra uneasy, and while she tried her best to remain composed she lacked the conviction to chase the cat outright.

"are you always this mean?" she shot back, incensed by the cat's grating cackles.