Whitefish River Wheat kings and pretty things

lost my post >:( might be shorter I swear this was worded so much better before

The Constable was just in her reasons for her treatment of the painted Knight, but a seed of guilt still managed to plant itself within her heart. Time has passed so quickly since the quakes, I'm afraid I've been rather distracted with leadership. Perhaps it was an excuse avoiding the real question, but the statement remained true. Injuries and loss, time had never been a consideration to Ira, she was lucky they turned out alright despite the extended stay in the plains. Thoughts flashed back to her last conversation with Hieronymous, he hadn't been the most cheery then either, perhaps an apology was in order. A sigh escaped her as Ira tilted her head up as if the sky held the right words to say in this situation. I do not hate you, Hieronymous, but I also do not enjoy my personal space invaded. She refocused her attention on the male with what appeared to be a flat expression, but if he were to look at her eyes, they would say it all. I wish to apologize for our last encounter. You can not smell so you had no way of knowing my aggression was fueled by my heat. It didn't really excuse for past meetings, but this one was at least unjust.