Whitebark Stream don't think we need to engage in any pleasantries

Something shifted in him as they parted. She didn't know what or why, except that he could not stay there, and felt compelled to walk. She noticed little things that seemed unimportant: a stiff-leggedness, the sound of his drawled voice receding in to the dark. It felt like she'd won whatever game they had been playing.
Indra didn't know why she bothered harassing him like this, except it did give her a sense of power that she otherwise lacked. The buck's death had helped that to emerge - the blood, the food - but it was Colt retreating that made Indra feel it all fully.
She didn't go after him. Let him sulk, she thought.
Her eye was upon him for a moment, over one shoulder, until she turned away, smiling.