Bearclaw Valley round town

twitch hesitates when she sees him.

she spots him before he spots her, sprawled beneath a tree like the world itself paused just to grant him a fragment of peace. she figured he did not get much of that, just based on his general demeanor. she nearly turns back in effort to preserve it. it would be easy to—she figures he doesn’t like her much, and she doesn’t blame him.

her mouth is full of feathers. a bundle from various types of birds, clamped gently between her teeth. though she initially intended to add them to her cache, this moment offers an opportunity. perhaps he would like them instead, a gift maybe. a peace offering.

she doesn’t want trouble. doesn’t want to be in his way. she is careful when she pads closer, keeps a good distance, eyes flicking to his face, trying to gauge his mood. “you look comfortable,” she says, voice even, unreadable. then, after a beat, she drops the feathers at her feet to talk easier.