The Heartwood imperfection's glow

Magpie's eyes narrowed at the response— the soft hmph that reeked of arrogance and patronization. The yearling knew, instinctually, that she was right to feel the way she did. How dare Echelon act as though it were a childish, irrational fear? But unwilling to start a fight (and perhaps even more so, unwilling to free herself of company quite yet), Magpie let it go. Where she might have easily responded to further inquiry before, the yearling felt herself suddenly guarded, mistrusting. All she had wanted was to talk to someone about her woes, to help her think through them... but it was now the furthest thing she wanted to talk to this one about.

"It's complicated," she responded, flat. "I've been on my own for most of my life, anyway. Used to it." Magpie shrugged, her tone just as nonchalant. Perhaps trying to regain some of her "street cred". Loners rule, pack wolves drool.