Bearclaw Valley oh holy ghost, how have i wandered so far from my home?

indra could see the mix of guilt and self-aggrandizement spill across xan's features. in that heated moment, it did not lessen the strange melancholy that overtook her. for the tenth? fifteenth? countless? time in her life, laurel was proving that all they had in this bitter and ugly world was each other.

life had a strange way of hammering home mantras and reoccuring themes -- one of which seemed to be to trust no one, but your blood.

indra looked to the tracks left in the snow and her gaze was hooded. "she's not helpless. not any less than the rest of us." indra chimed dully, but said nothing further. in her eyes, that wolf was just as capable as biting as she - perhaps more so.