Bearclaw Valley my sad soul forgot its pride

indra couldn't tell right away that her sense of time was mangled beyond recognition; she would often wake to the sound of something hitting the dirt - or the smell of meat would rouse her from her lonely stupor. sometimes there'd be a person waiting by the edge of the rift and they'd call down to her, but they never got too close.
she found herself desperate for company, and used her limited energy to pace where she was kept, like a caged zoo animal. it was the precise sound of claws against stone which brought her forth this time, drawn eagerly to the light, as she had internalized the regularity of her meals and now sought to steal glances of her latest visitor.

an uneven number of claws.
merrick stooped down and grinned toothily into the stricken little face. "hello, indra."
his voice was kinder.
merrick looked up and then back at the girl again.
"i'm ready to let you out for a little bit."
the bearking's head tilted slowly to one side. 
"are you ready to tell me what you have learned?"

someone said her name.
she'd looked up hastily, hoping it was the man that brought the rabbit.
instead it was the man with one eye, and she wasn't sure what to do when her gaze met the shine of it, except to duck down and make herself smaller.
indra had almost missed what he'd offered her.
out? she croaked, then swallowed, and looked at him with unabashed interest. she looked away only to cast her eyes to the shadows where the tattered, once-soft stalks of rabbit ears had been discarded once they became too rough with rot;
—tell me what you have learned?
her chin trembled as she looked at her feet.
m... mothers aren't... aren't real.
if it meant she could go out she would say anything.

"mothers aren't real."
his voice echoed back. his face split into a monstrous beam. 
"very good, bloodstain."
merrick snorted a ripple of laughter through his nostrils.
"if i let you come with me to water will you run away?" merrick cocked his head to the other side and kicked a clod of earth down toward indra. "do you know what will happen if you do?"

his laughter hurt more than the loss of her rabbit ears.
there was something sinister about him always, but familiar too, which indra could not place — and did not ultimately want to think about. she wanted freedom; she wanted water and food and to be somewhere else.
if the one-eyed man was happy with her, that was a good sign.
i won't run, i won't! her voice became adamant.
the man offered a threat. indra's fear took on a new flavor.

merrick smirked and turned away. "come on, then." 
he would wait for her to climb the last feet from stillrift. and he would not help her. indra would struggle; it was her lot in life to do so.
but once she had emerged into the snowy air once more, merrick grunted, lurching off for the pool east of them.
he did not speak.

he turned away to lead her.
the prompt of his voice, no longer barbed but somehow inviting, was like a balm to her lonely soul. the man had not proven himself injurious to her yet; he had brought her food many times and company often, shaped as lessons, and now a further freedom was granted.
it was hard to follow him. he did not move swiftly but his steps were reaching by virtue of his size; indra was frantic as she saw the gap between them increase and indeed struggled, fighting her way to his heel.

merrick bent to drink and then looked toward indra. in the light she was filthy, matted. she stank of the bones and the dark and the ash. the bearwolf said nothing to her. he turned back to his drinking and filled the hollow places of his flanks.
eventually he lifted his head. droplets fell and froze. "the bear chooses those who are worthy."
his single eye danced over indra.
"are you worthy?"

The bear.
The other wolf had spoken of it, the one who brought the rabbit the first time.
Indra was silent; whether she thought about the question or not, her features did not change until the one-eyed man looked at her directly, focusing on her.
Her own eyes glanced upon his face and then averted with haste, making a small nervous noise as the only reply.

he clucked his tongue.
"not yet."
merrick turned away from the water. "come, indra."
back to stillrift. back to wait a while longer. she would soon be ready.
but not today.

Their visit concluded after that question.
She was given a moment to drink and could barely look at herself reflected in the water as it lay flat, mirroring the open sky - the ink-dark man.
And then they turned with Merrick's prompting. Back down the ridgeline to where Indra was to be kept, where she could mull over her future - or sleep, and be lost for a while.