Meadowlark Prairie Can't see the stars, but we're reaching

indra was somewhat relieved at least the boy seemed receptive to ideas outside of his own custom; at the very least, that showed a sliver of promise for his future. perhaps, he would be different than the other blackfeather wolves. perhaps not. indra knew very little about the forest, and could not make much of a convincing argument that he would grow up perfectly fine either way. she did wonder what the effect of perpetual desensitization to dead bodies could do to a pup -- could it permanently deform their way of thinking about other individuals? would they lack compassion as adults?

indra looked up as he declared it wasn't a person anymore. "it's not a person anymore because it's dead." she reinforced hotly, though immediately softened as she realized her tone had been curt. he had asked her why -- that showed interest -- she was slightly reassured by his curiosity (though maybe she shouldn't have been). "because it's what you do when we die. it's a sign of respect, of love, for the person that is no longer with us. if i die, i hope that someone who loves me can bury me, cover me, so the crows don't pick out my eyes and wolves don't fight over my bones. it's what's right. would you want to be dead like them? would you want someone to toss around your leg like a toy?"