Bonesplinter Ravine waiting by the mailbox, by the train

astara's indigo eyes remained shut even as cinder spoke again -- the first of his questions regarded with a narrow shrug of her shoulders, neither a helpful answer nor a genuine one -- and the questions that followed remained unanswered, save for the beleaguered flick of an ear.

had she known the redhawks were enemies to blackfeather, or had cinder known her to be an enemy, perhaps the situation would have been different.. yet it seemed neither knew of their parents' distaste of one another, as was often the case with youthful innocence, which saw through unfiltered and often unjaded eyes.

she was tired -- so tired -- taking a deep breath, the girl opened her eyes again, hoping cinder would be transformed to relmyna, and that she could forget this day ever existed.

but it was cinder that remained besides her, and no other soul.

the girl could not take this. she did not want company, she did not want to be consoled. she wanted her mother. with a snarl, she suddenly rose -- and without nary a glance back, tore from cinder's company and galloped wildly for home.