Fox's Glade oh guard the pounding sound

mona was warmed by the knowing embers of indra's gaze; so buoyed, her velveteen ears swept forward to peruse the somber contemplation. "tindome," came her soft rejoinder, "that way." mona gestured vaguely with a small paw, her thoughts flickering through a cycle as she lifted murkwater eyes to the pretty face of her same-saddened companion.
tindome, great elk, the vale. nathaniel. delight. constantine. mona meditated upon each of this things for a long moment before she dismissed with pain the image of her eagle's dark eyes. "i think our lives are grey, with a sun that sends down its light here and there, indra," the mayfair intoned shyly, though her voice carried a heaviness beyond the youth she wore so glibly. "so yes, and no."