Swiftcurrent Creek Indigo

Her pulse quickens with something that is not entirely fear as his stark form draws towards her. When their eyes meet something in his gaze protests her turning away. She looks deeply, trying to figure out what it might be, what it is she recognizes in him.

“Nor I your’s,” she rejoins, but does not bend for the waters again.

If she were a passerine he was a shadowed feline, reclining cooly in his claim. As tired as she is, her senses fill with the chill of the air against her face, with the trill of the river under her paws and the wild scent he brought with him. She hears her own breathing and feels the quiet power of his attention.

When his focus turns for the water, Eset mirrors his calm.

“You would not chase me from your river?” She asks, her intentions with it two-fold.