Bearclaw Valley hym

you're a fkin natural -- but no rly, i do it for laziness

indra was not entirely oblivious to the disappointment that sagged the steely male's countenance; she stiffened, feeling as if she were a slab of meat being admired for its marbled texture or its clean cut -- and her body denounced such bold examination with every hair that stood on edge as if a blade.

nor did she miss the great pains it seemed to take the male to unfurl his figure and cast aside the sovereign indifference in which he seemed to regard the world. it gave her a certain selfish, naive pride to see him humbled before her -- regardless if she earned it or not.

if there was anything at all indra appreciated, it was a succinct and to the point person. she was tired of beating around bushes, tired of dealing with the internal turmoil of people and their ever shuffling masks. that he was direct, made him esteemed in her eyes.

"this is bearclaw, and i am indra, its beta." she found articulating her title was still strange, as if it were a newly clad and foreign cloak about her. "we were founded by asylum. but i did not like the way you looked at me. give me a reason to overlook it, and i will reconsider my first impression." damn -- when had indra become such a hardass? oh -- wait -- since she had learned everyone in the world (except laurel) sucked.