Stone Circle sticks

Her expression seemed to falter as Riley said they were playing no longer, though it did not fall. The light in her eyes was an undying thing; she would need to hear far more than no for that to ever fade. He had come to block his brother from her, though Leta took this all the wrong way. She saw him as any one of her own brothers, protective—the cold flint of his gaze, which ought to have struck a chord in her, did nothing to someone it ought to have given what she had endured. It ought to unsettle.

But Leta was naive, and a little too trusting to (and of) all within Easthollow.

Not at all taken aback, Leta's full smile returned, prepared to accept the unfortunate truth that she had come late to their game. But then Charles spoke up, and Leta's tail waved. A thankful, happy little look was given to him. She looked to Riley with a challenge now alight in her hazel eyes, tail swaying left and right as she egged him on as she did to her brothers when they did not want to play: betcha I can beat you in a race for the stick,

For they could not yet resist the challenge. She could not either, to be sure. She had to prove them wrong! And now, she held onto hope that Riley would want to prove her wrong so that they could all play together. She looked to Charles, sizing him up with a playfully warm eye, the smile never leaving as Leta's gaze darted back to the boy Riley.