Wapun Meadow i can see a candleburning waxdripping bible burning woman that i once called a friend

Phoenix didn't realize until he had left the confines of the Creek, officially severed from their company, how weighted he had felt among the new families there and the cliques that had formed in its borders. None of it had come with ill intent, but inevitably the boy felt excluded. He'd begun to remember his regret for leaving the closeness of his natal family, and it was this unwanted kind of thinking that spurred him to shed what he thought was making him homesick: a house that felt nothing like a home.

He wondered about Indra as he went, which subconsciously affected his trajectory but didn't dictate it necessarily. He found himself distracted entirely by the scent of coagulating blood, and Phoenix followed it with a puppy's enthusiasm as he imagined he might luck out on a free meal. But he was reined by the sight of a wicked-looking she-wolf toting her kill in a cumbersome fashion, and though he made a high-pitched whine-groan of frustration towards her, the yearling knew instinctively to keep his fair distance.

Being both cowed and attracted by her stormy presence, the confused boy felt he only had one option; a thought executed pertly as  he slid down to his stomach and kept his head and ears erect so that he might watch her progression.