Kintla Flatlands and you always knew the way to bring me down

like the grouse, whip's sudden eruption from the brambles entirely stormed indra by surprise. in an instant the tittering bird was gone-  replaced by a swirl of cold air and the gentle drift of fluttering down-feathers.

indra instinctively stiffened, rising slowly from the bare heather with a cross expression enunciating clearly her displeasure with her study's demise. she peered cautiously at the agouti male, noticing first  (besides the purloined bird in his teeth) the strange scar marks across his slender limbs. she hardly had the energy to reinforce the bird was hers, much less harangue him over a lost meal -- this softened her approach. 

"hi." the red youth ventured, amber gaze locked on the thieved bird clutched in whip's mouth.