Bearclaw Valley and i will rejoice, and be glad for it

never in the history of woman-kind had any woman taken kindly to being told to 'just relax'. indra's gaze pulled from the snow to xan with a resentful flutter, and she seemed to puff up like a small, angry bird. she bit her tongue, if only because she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't -- if she replied as hotly as she wanted to, he might accuse her of being hysteric. 

so she said nothing, even though her tongue pressed desperately against the roof of her mouth and all manner of sharp riposte played easily across her mind. she was quiet, but that didn't mean her displeasure couldn't be conveyed -- with an annoyed huff she turned her muzzle away from him purposely, denying him the satisfaction of even seeing her eyes. keeping him deliberately out of her sight, indra rose to leave.

time would tell if he was true to his word -- if any of them were.