Bearclaw Valley is it okay to cry, sometimes?

indra hardly missed the change that overcame the stranger; how his facade crumbled like a withered leaf, or how his eyes suddenly seemed flooded with some semblance of forlorn pain. she might have felt cruel then, were it not for her possessiveness of laurel's safety. however, she appreciated the newfound plaintive manner of his words -- she had never been a wolf that enjoyed guile or manipulation.

he exposed his name and indra could not hide the jolt that vexed her -- she had done much to repress her memory of her birthplace, and his name was a fresh blow to the wound she had spent a lifetime burying. her expression wrinkled into a frown, which turned into an ugly sneer as the nameless wolf suddenly appeared and placed herself directly in front of indra mid conversation.

from posture alone it was evident indra's opinion of the woman: she trailed her gaze along the wolf's obscene belly and stepped forward, refusing to let herself be cut off from the male she had heen conversing with. the woman's arrival prompted indra to consider simply reconvening outside of the borders.

suddenly, phoenix's company seemed that much more appealing -- likely because indra was exhausted of being hounded by Xan's mate, and wished to just extricate herself entirely from the situation.

"i'm indra redleaf." she started, already prowling past the childladen woman towards the borders. "i could show you where phoenix maplewood is, if you want."