Bearclaw Valley like phony clothes, but i really like my

astara's demeanor was partially placated by the softening of phoebe's features when she first noticed her, but it was truly the harsh aversion of her gaze (as if pained) that subdued astara the most. mistaking that sharp nick of nostalgia for fear, the blackbird settled confidently on her haunches.

only, when she did so, she felt her enormous gut shift over her haunches and spill like gelatinous meat. the very sensation was alienating and humiliating -- especially in front of such a lissome creature. immediately, the nightshade stood -- this time strutting towards where phoebe had been ruminating the earth. thrusting her nose into the damp loam, astara sniffed the area curiously -- what was it this pretty girl had been looking for?