Bearclaw Valley and we'd break under the weight of any pressure that was ever applied
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#7
already, indra had unraveled marten's grand plans -- she felt guilty to see such worry spread across his features, an uncertainty she had not meant to affect. her own ears fell and a frown worried her features briefly as she thought hard on toads, and everything she knew about them.

which, in truth, was very little.

her little charge was quick to offer his thoughts: indra wrapped her mind around the theory that they ate leaves. could they? she did not recall them having teeth, and reasoned that suggestion might not be wholly correct. but what then, if not leaves?

caterpillars. her expression lifted. "hm.. i don't think they're skinny toads.. and maybe not leaves.. but... caterpillars.. good idea marten - it's bugs. they have to eat bugs!" she peered down at the enclosed toad, which eyed them both with a weary indolence. was it too much to hope the toad could tell them what he ate, just to spare them any humiliation?
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.