Bearclaw Valley just have the strength to know you're wrong,

in a few seconds, indra's rough fumble sunk to ruin -- a raw and absolute strength gripped the back of her neck, and her world stilled as particles, fur, and dust-motes swirled in kaleidoscopic schism before her lowered gaze. she felt a yawning deep in the pit of her stomach, a dull roar of a feeling that started low and grew and grew.

he had released her, but the sting of his teeth was not forgotten. she did not rise from her crumpled position, though she propped herself on her lean elbows and regarded him as if she had never seen him before. her expression was deceitfully cool; yet inwards, a gathering turbulence threatened, looming like the unsavory shape of a swollen storm.


she held his gaze unapologetically, for his voice was fractured with a quiver -- an emotion that seemed deep within him. so she had somehow cracked the stony, serpentine exterior - her own vulnerability exposed his in turn. it did not matter she was beneath him, that he stood over her -- part of her dared with a mutinous desolation for him to end her -- end it, there and now; to spill her blood and free the growing wrath within her.

"i listen, and i trust, and they all leave anyway." indra growled, feeling again the malcontent that bubbled thick as venom in her blood. "what makes you different?"