Bearclaw Valley wildflower

home. 

the word snagged against something in twitch’s chest, catching like a thorn in the soft flesh of her ribs. 

she expected the question. cole had asked the same. it was one of those things that you’d ask to be polite, she supposed, but winslet didn’t seem like the type to ask things just to fill the air. she meant it. 

twitch hesitated, nosing through brittle underbrush. a few tufts of fur clung to the roots of a fallen log—old winter coats, shed in uneven patches. she plucked them free with careful teeth, letting them gather at her paws before she answered. 

“it’s… fine,” she said at first, automatic, but the word tasted flat. empty. then again, didn’t it always? it was neither the whole truth nor complete lie. she swallowed, glancing sidelong at winslet, then back down at her meager pile. 

"’s pretty. quiet," she admitted, voice quieter now. "better than fending for myself." she licked at the back of her teeth, brow knitting slightly. "i don't really… settle, i guess."

a pause. then, just as quiet, "i dunno how."

she didn’t know why she said that. twitch wasn’t sure, but the words had already left her, and now all she could do was pray for a very sudden death. 

she ducked her head a little, huffing as if to brush it off. “s’pose i’ll figure it out, though.”