Bearclaw Valley a gentle gossamer wing

as soon as the wolf took note of her indra felt her step falter - maybe she had made a mistake striding so boldly towards her. maybe the wolf didn't want her company. either way, indra sucked in a deep breath and completely missed the slightly guilty expression that stole over poet's features.

"i, uh.." she started, suddenly feeling like a girl again. she looked to the snow as she tried to rid herself of her sheepish pride -- it was okay to be humble, right? to be vulnerable? she thought of laurel -- no -- she thought of blondine -- what would blondine do in this moment?

indra knew the answer. that woman had the wits and the good graces to be unabashedly gracious to someone that had done her a favor. "i never.. got to say thank you." she dared look upon poet now, though she did not look her in the eye for worry it may be interpreted as a challenge. "so... thank you."