Wapun Meadow You burn too bright, you know you'll never last.

Her gaze falls onto a boy, her age, she thinks, cast in shades of slate and snow. He is angry, rightly so, but before she can respond he quite suddenly curls in on himself, gaze tearing itself from her own. For a moment, she is still, taken aback by this display, and doesn't move except to stare at him. She wonders what had him switch from aggression to submission so quickly, when her own stance was tense but neutral. Her scars have never exacted such an extreme reaction, though her stomach churns none the less in shame that has haunted her since the incident. She moves slowly, carefully, pushing the rabbit towards the male, for she believes in honour and to take another's hunt seems simply wrong.