Fox's Glade ocean eyes

mourning and grief settled in her narrow chest, heavy and sinking. not only for the poor little bird that she cradles with a gentleness born, not earned—but for the woman she used to be. so full of life and hopefulness. so eager to love and be loved, and to care for her people. to bring them peace. 

she misses her old self. the ghost that had been left in kathhara, cowering beneath the cruel paws of a man who was supposed to cherish her. 

like a licking flame had been snuffed. 

a deep rumble of a voice pulls her from her sorrow—startles her, more like. it'd been so long since she'd been in the company of anyone, let alone a man. the newly-instilled fear toward masculinity struck a chord inside of her. short ears pulled back against her skull, and teary eyes watched him. wary, uncertain. 

but his voice, albeit gruff, was kind. worried, even. she didn't run from him, least not yet. 

her eyes fell back to the bird at her paws, its feathers tattered and dull. she sniffles, tries to compose herself. "i am okay," she lies. something she'd never been good at. "i feel bad for this starling. it must've had a lonely death." she frowned. 

he must think her a fool, shedding tears over a creature so small. she curls her tail around her hind legs, perhaps to make herself appear smaller. 

"i was going to bury it, but the ground is frozen." it deserved to rest properly. maybe in helping such, it'd make her feel better.