Bearclaw Valley a gentle gossamer wing

forward dated w/ permission

it had only been a few days since the hunt and the subsequent altercation between laurel and the voiceless wolf, but indra still felt at unease. she was strung tighter than an adder's coil as she rounded back and forth across the borders, throwing her thin body against bare trees and rocks to cloak them with her scent. her heat still clung thick to her heels and she was frustrated for reasons beyond the events that had transpired.

she had wanted to be alone, but as she drove deeper into the forest she became aware she was anything but - fresh laid prints dimpled the soft snow, and as she nosed them she recognized the scent as poet's. indra did not know the woman well, though hazily she recalled that poet had attended to her when she had been at her most delirious. she supposed it would be the right thing to do then by thanking her, and drifted after the woman as quickly as she could.