Flycatcher Downs you might listen to too much jimmy buffett

indra was horrified to learn of her mistake, yet it was too late -- already the piebald wolf had shifted to her feet in alarm. the russet woman felt a heat rise to her cheeks in scarlet shame and her ears drew back in disappointment. it was not lucas at all; perhaps indra's exhaustion had bled into her ability to see straight, for now that she was looking at nebula the distinctions between the she-wolf before her and laurel's son were quite plain.

"fuck!" indra hurled an obscenity into the air, feeling frustration and grief flood back into her. she bowed away in a step back and out came a smaller, quieter "fuck." her visage was wrought in an apologetic frown as she looked the lamb-like she-wolf up and down. "i'm looking for someone, a puppy. i thought you were him." she trailed off lamely, unable to meet the softened yellow of nebula's line of vision. "have you seen him? he's your height, spotty white, light blue eyes."