Wapun Meadow why don't you run from me?

the firebrand besides her had seen the doe. astara observed as she stepped forward, eyes tracing the distant figure of the coal-black cervine.

she gave a single nod; yes, once before.

once, when snow had fallen in muted flurries. an early winter -- or late fall, who knew -- day. her rook, eyes alight with lust and excitement, chasing -- chasing not dark doe, but a little red hind by the name of

indra

astara believed the doe a blackened omen. she would not approach it, not for love or for fealty. she hoped it fell into a ditch and snapped its fragile, stupidly thin legs -- but she would not fell it herself.