Bearclaw Valley oh brother, our blood was so thick

Waiting comes easily to the woman, who sits and patiently leaves Indra to her meal in comfortable silence. Her wait is rewarded: the other girl's question brings a slightly embarrassed smile to her lips, eyes cast to the side demurely. "I do," she admits. "I was overthinking. Thank you for helping me realise that."

More pressingly: "how about you?" the ex-priestess asks gently, trying not to call too much attention to the state that Indra seems to be in (at least physically). Her gaunt figure speaks to something happening. There is not a famine upon them, and in fact, the pack seems capable of supporting several litters (...or if it is not, at the moment things feel peaceful.) Her first meeting with the Redleaf girl had been marked by a trauma, and belatedly Poet wonders at the lingering psychological effects, something she should have paid attention to sooner had she not been working through her own difficulties. At least she can pry a little here in the now, if Indra will indulge her.