Fox's Glade Guess Who

At first, she just glared at him. She wasn't sure she could just stand here and exchange small talk with the man who had gained and subsequently destroyed her closely guarded trust. She had allowed Howl have more of it than she had ever given anyone else--enough to have allowed herself to go farther with him than she had ever let herself go before. Honestly, she hadn't ever felt that way before, and to see him treat it like it was nothing was confusing and hurtful, even now after she hadn't seen him in weeks. She released another sigh, finally deciding to answer him but unsure why. She should just turn and walk away without any answers, but she was very irritated to discover that she still felt drawn to Howl. So, she finally spoke. I'm fine, she answered at first, her tone curt. But she found herself taking a step towards him and opening her mouth to speak again. I've been pretty busy helping the pack get ready for winter. 

She briefly looked away, unsure what else to say. Part of her was tempted by his scent and the memory of the safety and contentment that used to accompany it--that part wanted to move closer and greet him further with an affectionate nuzzle. The other part of her was burning with anger and betrayal and wanted to take a bite out of him--that part was urging her to bolt ad never look back. It was very disconcerting and confusing to have different parts of herself so at odds with each other, and it made it hard for her to come up with anything else to say. She looked back at him again, gaze meeting his, but she said nothing. She momentarily wondered what showed in her expression; she tried to keep her emotions from showing there, but her face was usually a traitor, always cluing others in to just exactly how she felt about things. Right now, her inner tumult was distracting enough that she didn't even think she cared.