Wapun Meadow waiting in my room, and i lock the door

only once did astara look behind her, to see again that stupefied expression; that grappling with an inane reality that astara had presented. 

cue another smile, no warmer than the first. 

astara’s slim muzzle cut through the snow, a thin gouge left in her wake. she listened intently to the chittering beneath her, measuring — mapping. a few moments of quiet pause and the dark wolf plunged beneath the snow, resurfacing this time with a squealing shrew. 

with a crunch astara ended its protests, her breath exhaling in a violent misty plume. this token too was flung towards the stranger. eat, the girl’s expression seemed to command — a grotesque titter pressing from her lips.