Cerulean Cape I can’t tell you anything

The ocean winds were harsh against his face, wholly unaccustomed to the salt that travelled with them. He closed his eyes aginst an incoming breeze, relieving himself of some irritation, but something was different when he opened them again: a form. There was another on the shore with him, and they seemed to he coming straight for him. Alexander did not cease his own movements but steeled his expression instead, ears alert and head held high; if some asshole intended to bother him, he would ensure that it’d be the last time they ever did so. He approached ready for a fight but, as they grew closer to one another, features of the other wolf become more visible—and he realised that he knew her.

Alexander’s legs froze for a brief moment, stiffening as if death had claimed him. If Indra was there, did that mean...? Shaking his head, he continued towards her, jogging this time to reach her sooner. And as she reached speaking distance, he asked, “Indra? Are you okay?” because the social cues of others that weren’t of vicious origins still tended to fly right over his head the first time. He suspected she was angry—and why wouldn’t she be?—but refused to acknowledged it, believing that his good intentions were reason enough to forget his past crimes.