Wapun Meadow redemption has freed the burden from me

it was only a few steps before the male called out behind her; indra turned a ruddy ear, and slowly, her entire muzzle. his peal was cracked; dry -- rusted the way red flakes snarled across an unused cast-iron tool. she halted and pivoted her shoulders towards him, her expression still weathered by hurt.

he had at least apologized, which was the only reason she had not kept walking. begrudgingly she offered what he sought: "wapun meadow." she said nothing else, favoring silence as her gaze openly fell on his own striking features. there was no challenge in her eyes, but there was a sense of cold autonomy -- as if she were confident enough he would not turn upon him, but not confident enough to pull her gaze from him.