Swiftcurrent Creek something has to shift

panther watches her study him and notes the linger of her gaze — green, he thinks for the distance makes it hard to judge — on his scars. it doesn't strike ire in him, nor does he particularly mind. this chapter of his life started with the wounds, has lived with these scars: they are all he knows, unable to remember what his life had been like without them; and most commonly they strike a sense of weariness into all who look upon them. panther can't see them for himself but he trusts that they are as gruesome as he thinks they are.

she asks about them, the scars, even going so far as to crane her neck to emphasize what she means. he is neither affronted nor perturbed by her prodding: she is a child; curious and unfiltered ...as she should be. it is the nature of youth to wonder and ask questions. i was in a fight. panther replies to her inquiry after a moment longer.