Bearclaw Valley In this world, it's just us

though he seemed to be joking, or teasing, at the very least, a frown formed on rala's face. an unusual sight upon the typically bright woman, her brows drew together as she worked. was it selfish to admit that she wanted them both? to keep both of them to herself, to protect them, heal them, rest with them.

dolce - the memory of him, his listening and his charm, was strong. tvar - his words, his personality, stoic yet kind, was alluring. she took a breath, releasing it in a soft, low sigh. i do not wish to hurt either of them, perhaps she should move on from both - it would only be fair that way, would it not? but she could not bring herself to push them from her thoughts. either of them. was it cruel of her, to think in this way?

rala removed her paws from cole, now, assessing her work, the snow that covered his wounds, laid upon his body. only a few remnants of the dried blood remained, and the snow that had been used to remove it was now a faint brown-red colour.

how does it feel?