Wapun Meadow waiting in my room, and i lock the door

This was not a game she was versed in, and Ibis certainly did not want to play. So when the dark figure made motions as if to skulk off, she found herself gladdened by the sight. Before long though, she was rounding back to where Ibis sat waiting, leaking, taking the time to brandish the vole before her. A smug little offering—a falsehood.

Ibis' innocence had been tested during this exchange. She chose to view the bite as an accident, chose to give the dark girl the benefit of the doubt—maybe it hadn't been on purpose, maybe she merely meant to be foolish and had not judged the distance correctly? Accidents did happen. 

The vole, she glanced at. Then to those eyes—dark and shining, unreadable to Ibis—and she stood up, made motion as if to seek the vole out for herself again; this time she was more cautious and the slow drift of her muzzle towards the dead thing looked more choreographed; she did not want to remove her gaze from the dark girl, finally heeding that tiny voice of reason she had so far under-utilized.