Blackfoot Forest From the glass on the floor

Calfuray was a smart woman, she knew that well, so why did she make so many dumb decisions?

Her limp would be gone by now if it wasn't for the fractured paw, and she wouldn't have gained it in the first place if it wasn't for her sympathy for Rala. Gritting her teeth, she let out a unaimed snarl.

She couldn't understand why she couldn't forget. She was not one to be sentimental, not one to hold grudges - hell, the other woman who fed and the bedded her just a week prior had come and gone from her mind already.

Dammit, this was Dione all over again.

Legs carrying her forward, a sharp pain suddenly hit her front right paw. Hissing in pain, she lifted it to take a look. A thorn, now stuck into her paw pad. Eyes narrowing into a glare, she was rather puzzled. Where the hell had that even come from?

calfuray was a smart woman. rala knew that well. and yet she made a dumb choice.

there was no need for her approach towards the valley. no need for her injured paw and no need for the tension that she felt now strung like a tight wire between her and the packmates that had witnessed such an event. but she would be selfish in saying she was worried for her position in the valley. mostly, she was worried for her friends health.

she wondered, then, if cal would still consider her a friend.

and she wondered, then, why she was still so close by! her figure, dark, injured stood up ahead. and she quickly answered her own question ; her paw was fractured, no wonder calfuray was struggling to get away. perhaps nanuralaaq could help her. aid her.

calfuray! she called wearily, approaching the dark, injured woman.

A call comes, and for a moment Calfuray believes herself to be hallucinating. But when she turns her head, Rala is there.

She says nothing. Calfuray does not speak to strangers when she has no need; her single burning eye does all the talking for her.

She lets her approach, Cal's attention straying momentarily as she grabs the thorn with her teeth and pulls it from her paw pad, spitting it to the ground. The bleeding is instantaneous, stinging, irritating.

It feels no worse than the troubles passing through her mind, both present and past. She has far too much to be worried about, she always does.

a pool of scarlet seems to erupt from one of calfuray's paws, and so her motion towards her is quicker, hurried. i am sorry, came quick words as she scanned the paw, looking down at the thorn that now laid upon the ground, coated in blood. she stamps a paw of her own against the ground once, twice, as if silent instruction to keep it against the snow, should she wish for the bleeding to cease. ever the doctor, the medical woman.

then, she said: i did not think they would hurt you, words low, remorseful, as her gaze lingered towards the fractured paw. i did not want them to hurt you, but in the back of her mind, she knew that it had to be done, for being hated by a woman she cared for was the only way she could ensure that said woman would not be hurt again - at the very least, not by rala's own packmates, anyway. she could not bear to watch.

nanuralaaq took a breath. is there anything i can do? anything at all? hunting, healing, the likes? i try and find you somewhere to rest, would that be good? for her way of apologising, of making amends, was through actions rather than words. she could only say so much, there was much more that she could do ...

... especially if it was for calfuray.

Eyes narrow now. What did apologies matter? What was done was done, if anything she hoped Rala would take her advice.

She would leave, part from the valley as it was what circumstance demanded. Rala herself seemed to believe that Calfuray was a feral animal, and the Bearclaw wolves clearly agreed. She did not wish to meet her or her pack members again, not even outside of their territory.

Briefly hackles were raised; a simple message of 'I do not want to see you' intended to be communicated.

Whether Rala had been the one to injure her, if she could have prevented it, none of that mattered. She had associated herself with packland brutes, and Calfuray wanted no part. She was better off on her own.

she said nothing. did nothing. nanuralaaq shifted, almost flinched, at the sight of raised hackles. snowwoman was not wanted here, nor were the bearclaw wolves, and though it hurt - she understood. dawn hues were pained, quite clearly, as they gazed upon the darker figure. another apology, soft-spoken, was given moments before she turned.

she walked, now, sullen, back towards the valley, tail low by her hocks.

there felt to be no blood within her body, only stone and remorse.

exit rala!