Fox's Glade My silent lips

it did no good to dwell, but that was who indra was. she was a fixater, a dweller -- an obsessor. the days following her unspeakable crime passed in a whirlwind, and her secret was guarded close to her gurgling heart, which pumped darkly onwards.

her mind was prone to wandering, as were her feet -- before she knew it she was well away from laurel and the scene of her unforgivable act; a howl crested over the trees and drew her forth, eyes heavy-lidded and angry.

xan.

figures, he would appear and reappear like a timeless and haunted ghost in her life. indra's stub of a tail was flagged, and she fixed him a cold gaze. he had been given too many chances to be redeemed -- but ... he had never done what she had done, had he?

her posture fell, and she swept towards him suddenly -- hot tears streaming down her crumpled face.