Bearclaw Valley and when we burst, start over, oh darling

indra tried a smile in mona's direction, but the assembly of her visage seemed to fall flat - the worry that the red mayfair emanated was inescapable, and she felt a twinge of guilt for being in a sorry enough state to have evinced it. trying her best to smooth her composure, she gently took the offered bird. she thought herself beyond lucky to have bearclaw -- to have all of them -- and it caused a new pang of guilt to crawl into her heart and consume her.

mona was so gracious in her offer, and indra only looked at the ground and mumbled something incomprehensible. she hated herself, but she didn't hate merrick -- how could she explain that she wanted to run away and never leave at the same time? these clashing ideologies thrilled and executed her will at the same time; like a ship left rudderless, indra was sinking.

"that's really kind of you," she fumbled, looking at the dirt as she spoke -- because she couldn't bring herself to meet mona's kind gaze. "i don't think he's ready yet. i don't know. i don't know anything about this." it was a bald exclamation that, upon realizing she had made herself vulnerable, indra quickly supplanted: "i mean.. it'll get better. are you settling into bearclaw okay?"