Bearclaw Valley just have the strength to know you're wrong,

for a while he was silent alongside her. indra knew the silence would not stay - like all things, it was born into the world, had its riotous heyday, and then it too slid into obscurity. she used the silence to collect her thoughts -- or to put it less kindly, collect her wits.

stigmata was fuming, and rightly so. indra could see a coldness shroud him - it was an empty, yet oddly consuming presence -- similar to the impression one got as they stared down a well and felt as if they were staring eternity -- or endless blackness -- in the face.

she knew what happened next would shape the formation of the days that followed; the foundation of their relationship was like clay - smooth at first, yet fissures had slowly sprawled across its worn surface to the point indra wondered how little a shake it would take, just to see it come crumbling down.

and indra was so very tired -- but not yet of him.

so, she bit back the prideful lash of her tongue, swallowed the crackling emotion that threatened to overcome her, and chose her words carefully. "you are wanted -- needed -- with us." she expected the admission would make her small to a fault; instead, she just felt exhausted.