Bearclaw Valley I’m your toy, I’m your toy, I’m your toy

It wasn’t hard to find her, a fire-kissed form soon within his line of sight and drawing him closer. He didn’t know what to expect from either her or himself, knowing only that he wanted to mend things. Alexander didn’t want anyone to feel as if they didn’t belong, especially not since he knew how that felt. He understood what it was like to come second, to be cast aside and replaced, and these feelings were ones that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone—at least not anyone in his valley. They were supposed to be a family, after all, a structured group where those he had started to care for could act as a single unit.

But it was not that simple, at least not right now.

Whilst her head bowed there was something unwelcoming in her expression, forcing him to wonder if he might have sought her out too soon. Maybe she wasn’t ready to see him, maybe he should leave. Ignoring his uncertainty, he approached her slowly and placed the hare down at her feet, then retreated a few steps to give her some space. “For you,” he stated, nose pointing towards the carcass. He struggled with his words after that, having a decent idea of what he wanted to say, but not how to say it—these things weren’t easy, not for him. Being forward was the only approach he knew he could pull off, and so he asked, quite bluntly, “Are you mad at me?” Anger, scorn—it was all the same, wasn’t it?