Great Bear Wilderness Take me to church,

She hadn't learned many of these things. None to teach, nor any willing.

Do I? You can't really lose what you didn't have in the first place. She shrugged off his mention of loss—as if despite this, she still felt that weight, heavy like a rock atop her scrawny frame, threatening to buckle the toothpick limbs beneath her. Perhaps the heaviness came from what could've-should've been. She had pieces of it, much to her disdain, pieces inescapable, physical; tattered ears perked and flicked briefly.

Indeed, it lingered, inescapable; unless she kept herself diverted. She'd always keep herself diverted. That's what she was doing here, and he had turned out to be quite interesting. She could not fight the smile that tore at each corner—and he still had a pretty face and a good figure, that much hadn't changed. She prevented the the lecherous thoughts from seeping into her stare, much as she objectified.

Envy. She offered back, tongue briefly swiping over a pale set of jaws.