Hushed Willows I wanna believe that your faith in me is as strong as it was

indra had known too, before the woman had spoken. it was etched in the sorrowful crease of her kind eyes, diffused in the soft bend of her posture, the very same posture that often was adopted by bearers of bad news and beggars alike. indra stiffened alongside her sister, no longer listening to the even cant of olive’s words.

for all the diplomacy the matron summoned, it was lost on the redleaf pair. spurned, indra hastily turned on her heels — but not before she delivered a long, hardened stare in olive’s direction. laurel’s words might have been cruel, but if looks could kill surely the kind waif before them would have dropped dead instantaneously from the venomous bite in indra’s gaze.