Silver Moraine he's got an everloving bone to pick with one and all

indra was consumed by her task enough she did not catch the flash of rich chestnut, nor the crystalline blue of tezcacoatl's stare, until he chuffed: at the noise her head snapped upwards and her posture froze, eyes prowling along the expanse of jutting ridges and broken stone until they caught the wolf that uttered it.

then, indra strode with unusual purpose towards the male, as if forgetting she was wary of all strangers, or carried a deceitful hate of men in her heart -- he might have been dangerous, but indra's will was tempered by her concern for laurel's lost child; her brazenness came from a fit of desperation, not a swell of courage.

"hey, you!" she called as she picked her way nimbly as she could towards him. "i'm looking for someone. a puppy." she didn't give lucas' name or even a description out of wariness, yet she watched him like a hawk for any flicker of recognition or, gods help him, guilt in his gaze.