The Bracken Woods oh, black lung, you're back

A pillow? That didn't track with what she knew of Colt. This man lived wild; slept beneath the stars, coerced strangers, enjoyed the sport of hunting food and friend.

He ordered her about again. Wanted her at a distance now - not close like before, where he'd wedge himself close to her or be possessive when she slept. The gore might've pushed him away - she made note of that, and felt all the stronger for it.

For now, she'd obey. Slinking back along the wood's edge to where the path converged with a creek bed, low and cool, barely enough water to soak her feet. It would be enough to seep the blackness from her.

Indra almost didn't want to give up the grime, with the effect it had on him.