Wapun Meadow bébé ils ne veulent pas de toi

A frown crossed her briefly when he mentioned that he was off in some way; she was ever an optimist cloaked in that naivety. She wanted to contest but didn't to let him speak more, to be respectful, and found the premise of Ursus intriguing. No secrets—that suggested that perhaps there were secrets kept out there, and well, it did not shock her by any means. After all, the very things that caused a schism in her own family may as well have been secrets suddenly aired and brought to life in full. The kind that breathed and expelled fire.

"I will," she answered. "I want to hear it, at least."

Another want to the pile; how she wanted simply to belong.

"But I don't think you're... off. You seem like you've been through a lot. That doesn't make you off. It shouldn't, anyway." She had no reason to believe he was off. He did as he was supposed to—he defended his home, the claim he wanted. He rallied others to his cause in exchange for the very things they needed. Wasn't that what her parents had always done?