Bearclaw Valley ishkabibble

as much as indra wanted to hotly fire off in response to piper's words, she knew it would be of little use. too much of laurel -- hell, too much of indra -- had been passed onto the young firebrand, and quelling her would be as easy a task as stopping a storm from falling. one might as well shake their fist and scream obscenities at that storm for all the good it did them -- and little good it would do, all things considered.

she sighed; it was a long, drawn out exhale -- but an exhale that piper would recognize as a sign her aunt was giving in. it was not piper's logic, or her pure intentions, that won indra over. it was that indra knew that even if she attempted to stop the girl, it would only breed resentment; it would have as much value as transporting water through a sieve.

"fine. but uncle tadec goes with you --" she looked at tadec in silent pleading, her imploring gaze trailing his solemn countenance. he might not find piper's presence enjoyable, or the journey fun -- but indra trusted the crow implicitly and could think of no better chaperone for their jaunt.