Blackfoot Forest the primroses were over

she had not meant to trouble him; her instinctual wariness was perhaps unwarranted, but it was not entirely misplaced -- tadec had given her no reason to distrust or deconstruct his words, but the rest of the world had well-acquainted indra with malfeasance. she gave an apologetic smile, her lip curled with uncertainty as she watched the crow navigate the minefield of her sensitive disquiet.

he provided an answer, bald as ever. indra felt a sudden need to be close to him; his transparency was reassuring the way a strong arm was, and she was breathless as she stepped towards him to fill that gap. she didn't know what she was doing, but something compelled her all the same to feel validated alongside him -- gently, she pressed her body to his and rested her head alongside his thin shoulders.

***

later, the pair moved from the sunlit copse stride to stride; a change in both their steps and the closeness in which they walked. indra would never speak of what soft and gentle things transpired in that rock-studded cave, yet she would hold closely both the events and the man that had created them, for days to come -- and soon, something else in her would change in artifact of whatever deeds had been ministered that fateful afternoon.