Meadowlark Prairie rancid dinner with the pope

indra had expected an answer - she had not expected the silvered male to crumble like deadwood. her own ears pulled back once more in revolt as he unexpectedly stumbled as if struck across the face. a small part of her wanted to be concerned and it showed in the complex crease of her forehead, yet at the same time, he was a killer. did killers deserve empathy?

plot twist: he had done nothing. that did little to clear the air, and now indra was even more perplexed than before. just as she was about to grill him further another wolf appeared, dark sooty black and unbidden. indra would have hailed the wolf friendily enough if it werent for the assertive posture the female immediately adopted: off put by this display, indra kept her ground and her tail rallied behind her.

she looked to screech for an answer, half expecting him to give him one despite the very confusing amount information he had already proferred.