Bearclaw Valley you were not made to be understood, you were made to be experienced

 

for @Xan

she had been re-thinking her position on the white-cloaked man.

since he had allowed her into his dominion, she had worried that he had lured her here with that otter for a reason.  she had wondered if she was too naive to see his ulterior motives, if she was so eager to be a part of something that she'd been blinded to the man's dark desires.

but she was beginning to suspect that there were none.

which really confused her.  his behaviour was protective, more sentimental than anything she had ever experienced.  which meant that he must need her for something, right?

her mind turns to spending time next to each other, her perched on the rock next to the entrance and him on the ground in front, and lingers in those moments.

was he lonely?  was that it?  the only person she had seen him interact with positively since her return had been their little chestnut friend, the one with the fur of tree bark and eyes of fire.

she settles there.  yes, that must be it.  although she had been protective of him before, in was in the sense that if something happened to him she feared that she'd be cast out.  it smelled of desperation.  but now, at least in her mind, she had understood him on the highest level of emotional depth she'd experienced to date.

as she came to this conclusion, she returned her attention to the valley before her.  she had taken little time to explore the territory, sticking close to the border and occasionally traveling out beyond.  she hadn't wanted to get too attached, for when they were taken away from her.

but she was braver now.  a rich and colourful twilight blanketed bearclaw, snow falling steady beneath the twinkling sky.  tentatively she brushed herself against a lonely tree as if she was testing how she smelled next to all of those she'd met — poet.  sif.  xan.  others..  and then with a bit more vigor, she continued working her way in.