Bearclaw Valley one voice tells me that they laugh

there was someone.

it felt like pulling details of landscape through the fog. everything was the same, nothing was clear. her mind had swallowed it whole in hopes of keeping it from her. granted no such thing had worked.

they were hurt — she remembered that. and i think i made it worse — i didn't mean to. she promised him with shining eyes, thickly rimmed with tears.

only she knew that she had.

that she had thrown herself into them, that she had wanted to seize the situation with her own teeth. only it had never felt like her and the haze of it following afterwards had only made it all more confusing. she could not even say what had happened with confidence. only uncertainty.

the limp hare sat still, sat cold.

the thing she had brought to such a state.

she would have never been able to present it with pride.

you can't tell anyone. begging, pleading.