Lost Creek Hollow fuck this shit

a certain firmness slipped into laurel’s gaze, hardening the hazel hue of her eyes in a way that looked harsh to indra. it was as she feared - wyatt too was gone.

her heart felt like an old dry leaf; flimsy and brittle and crunching under every new blow. and when did it end?

she opened her mouth to contest, but the soft form of marten arriving besides her stayed her response. and it was of little use anyway— as much as indra felt torn in a thousand ways (could she leave merrick and nunataq? could she leave terance after all the heartbreak he had endured? and treason, who would think she usurped their benevolence and used them?), indra knew she would never leave laurel.

a wry, sad smile briefly played her features. stigmata was right.

was this how seabreeze felt, knowing the path ahead, and knowing the hearts it would break in the process? indra breathed deep, her mind a storm of a thousand chaotic thoughts.

and then terance came along. her ears fell flat in shame, for she knew their departure would be a new scar to christen his battered heart. she could barely meet his gaze, and feeling rotten, only looked dumbly to laurel. wyatt is gone. her tone was pained yet flat, constricted by the guilt that was now settling deep in her ribcage, like thorns working their way through viscera. we have to go.

@Nunataq and @Merrick wherever they were would have to be told or collected — indra’s throat seized at the thought of leaving them behind.