Bearclaw Valley wildflower

the word is utterly unfamiliar to her: strong. never in a million lifetimes did she think she could fit it to herself, even in a million different bodies. strength was something sharp-edged, something solid. it was cole and tvar with their toned builds and gnashing teeth. it was ameline, her steadiness and calm lead. it was winslet, too, smiling so softly in the face of doubt.

twitch did not have that, therefore it was not her; she knew it as a whelp, and she knew it now. twitch snorted, shaking her head as if to dismiss the notion entirely. "i highly doubt that," she remarked with a laugh. "you seem like you got yourself figured out enough."

it wasn’t an easy thing, to exist so open. to be gentle, unguarded. that took more strength than most realized. it was easier to be like cole, or like tvar, who were strong in mind and body.

it was also easier to build walls around yourself, to snap at anything that got too close—she had her own variation of that. often, it was easier to not feel at all.