Meadowlark Prairie rancid dinner with the pope

the auburn wolf remained suspicious -- killing was not something that came easily to her, and she was mistrustful of any wolf that openly admitted to killing "someone". nevermind the irony of the situation, which was that wolves killed routinely and fastiduously for food - somehow, to indra, a wolf's life was taboo but a hare... a hare was somehow more amenable.

she couldn't swallow the reason why it was that way, but it was for her -- any further divination on her twisted logic was interrupted by the male's bold step towards her. instantly her hair flew on end and she found her feet, trouncing backwards in a sideways leap not unlike a startled cat's. "hey!" she hissed, her gaze cold and firm: "don't get any closer." stupid indra - she hadn't been around enough boys to know "don't" meant "do", all the same she trusted her words would carry implicit command (they didn't).

was she scared? she knew it. "a little." she had no problem admitting it, despite present company. "why did you do it?" she asked accusingly, getting ready to run.