Swiftcurrent Creek Its been one week since you looked at me

Indra could only fight for so long before she was too weak to resist the allure of water and food.

She ate sparingly when meat was brought to her. The water she refused repeatedly whenever it was delivered in a vessel, to the point that she had a constant dehydration headache; but when Indra had some energy (and an escort) she was led to the creek's edge and left to drink there.

Her wound festered. She wouldn't let anyone near enough to care about it, or about her, and didn't trust either of the black-furred wolves who had put her in this position. Without tending the injury would definitely scar, leaving a patch of fur missing along her chest where it appeared someone had tried to rip out her heart.

That's what it felt like. Even now, as she hunched at the water's edge and glared at it, blaming it as much as her captors, Indra could only think of Colt and feel the throbbing of her chest.