Bitterroot Valley A Strange Kindness

he peels away like she’d burned him only after he’d spent the last ten strides allowing her to living in his shadow—funny man indeed. a breath of a laugh pushes out of her, and she didn’t call him on it—not when he flashed her that sly little grin over his shoulder, acting like the ability to distance himself away was some kind of victory. it probably was, in reality.

“mm. coward,” she muttered, but it was far too fond to have any bite. she steps ahead of him now to shoulder through the upcoming curtain of ferns and hanging leaves. they rattle softly around her, brushing her flank and back. her chin tips up, just barely. c’mon, then.