Fox's Glade My silent lips

she had come for him once before, furious and ready to draw teeth -- but today she came to him broken, brackish tears limned by summer light.

indra did not slow; she collided and for the first time, perhaps, their bodies came together willingly. indra fell against him, melting against the arctic brace of his thick ruff -- and she buried her hot cheeks deep within the velveteen plush of his nape.

she tried to form words - 'i tried to kill them --', 'i -- i'm a monster,'. every word died against the thick press of her throat, hot as an extinguished and smoldering ember. "i --"

but indra did not continue. a sob wracked the thin arch of her spine and then she pulled away, finding herself at once (and ashamed, even, that she had sought him of all men for comfort).. but he was, in the end, family -- hadn't they been through so much?

it was then she noticed with slow alarm xan's own expression, which seemed just as wrought with trouble as her own: what had happened? her eyes wavered as they met xan's misty gaze and recognized that burdened and all too familiar grief. "xan?"