Overture Downs so watch your time, time descends

@Alarian

this wasn't exactly the reception indra had envisioned for her family: hello, new neighbor - got room for six or seven more? oh -- and, if you don't, don't worry, a bear will make room for us a few days later. gods, she felt guilty -- if survivor's guilt was a tangible thing, it was a gaul's ever-tightening torc - a noose would have been softer, and frankly, more comfortable than the hardened gibbet that set like metal claws against her throat.

she needed to step out; like a cigarette smoker sneaking one last drag before forcing herself back into the overwhelming party, indra took a wild excursion outside of the hollows. here she could think - away from the bustle of fake smiles and sorrowful faces: here, she could reflect on the last week's exodus, and massacre -- but unsurprisingly, she didn't want to think at all.

He wanders back to the place where he'd last met Terance, half-hoping to see him again. Their last encounter has admittedly changed something in the way he views the dark man; he is no longer relegated to the category of 'hot, but nah', for better or for worse. He still doesn't know him well, but he's seen enough of him to know that there is a sadness lurking below the surface, as with many of their kind. It's intriguing in a way — or maybe he's just still searching for common ground with near-strangers where there is none.
But he's here anyway, and it seems someone else is, too. From a distance the wolf is only a streak of red — but as he draws near, he can make out feminine features, and a distinct lack of a tail. The woman smells of Terance's pack; little surprise, as he is practically on their doorstep. He chuffs softly, halting when he's within a couple yards of her, and waits for a response.

just a few more steps, and she would be beyond sight of the hollow — beyond reach of its baleful and sad demeanor, which draped around her like the heavy shock of a dead man’s arm.

she wanted to find stigmata - her quick steps said she was looking for him for a fight, but she knew the second she saw him all that raw kindling would just flutter away to subdued hurt. he thought he was too good for them - she could see it - and boy if she did not have every intention of setting that stupid man straight —

until a chuff behind her sounded, prompting her to wheel around with all the abrupt and accusatory motion of a startled horse. she glared at the man — was it a man? — and might have just completely ignored him if she wasn’t feeling so .. well.. so pathetic.

besides, he looked like he’d be an easier target to sink ones teeth into. he had none of stigmata’s impressive bulk, none of that insidious ophidian aspect in his scornful gaze — yeah, he’d be an easy target alright.

all indra needed to do was just unload on this wolf, just redirect her raw and bewildered frustrations and stress on him — but as she took one purposeful step forwards, her momentum died out. he was just a stranger — a seemingly friendly one — and Indra realized belatedly he smelled an awful lot like the neighbors of a pack she had left behind.

fine, she would have lost a fight anyway. she wasn’t a good fighter- not a physical one - and she realized she had just been looking for a scapegoat. he wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted by her, anymore than she had deserved to be permanently scarred by ithrik. hi. indra replied glumly, finding she couldn’t bring herself to meet the man’s gaze.

She whips around to face him with fire in her eyes, and he takes a step back instinctively, ears pinning back. He stiffens slightly as she takes a single step toward him, watching the tension in her posture. He's ready to flee — but then she seems to deflate, and the melancholy in her expression inexplicably compels him to stay. Her greeting catches him off-guard, and for a beat he doesn't know how to respond.
Um, sorry — am I bothering you? He swallows hard, shifting on his paws. I can um, go. Leaving would be preferable to being bitten, anyway; he's had more than enough of that in his life.

alarian, justifiably concerned by the rage briefly brandished (and then just as quickly stowed away) by the redleaf woman seemed to step back, ears flat and eyes watchful.  there was a pause as Indra swung her gaze upwards, measuring the uncertainty in that singular hazel gaze. she was not used to evoking such reactions from strangers — and she couldn’t tell if she felt guilty or vindicated to cause fear in the heart of a strange man.

no, it wouldn’t do her any good to be cruel here: visibly, she seemed to sag and deflate, a rare streak of vulnerability suddenly exposed. perhaps it was because the last week had chewed her up and spit her out — or perhaps it was because the delicate man before her looked just as chewed up and spat out.

measuring the strange mood that simmered around her, indra gave a defeated sigh. no... i’m just... really mad about something.” which was nothing but the bald, bitter truth. she thought she ought to change the subject- even though alarian looked fairly disarming, there was still a hint of thorniness in her gaze as she regarded his wholly battered, used up face. you from easthollow?

The response is more straightforward than he's come to expect from strangers; it's intriguing. Before he can say anything, though, she voices her own question. Yeah, He says, a little surprised that she recognizes it. You're with um, Terance's pack, right? He can't quite recall the name — Sun-something? Ugh. He's silent for a couple beats, hesitant, and then he adds: Are you... going to be okay?

she was not so subtly sizing up his scarred countenance and charcoal body when he spoke terance's name: jolted from her assessment, indra's gaze found that singular eye anew, startled.

how many wolves had terance known? it seemed his influence spread out in some strange constellation over the wild - indra was captured with all the small, intricate ways she had known a friend of his, a sister of his, a relative. she wasn't thrilled with the idea of exposing where she slept to this man- for many reasons - but the writing was on the wall in terms of scent on her pelt, and lying had never come smoothly to the she-wolf.

"i am," she admitted, sounding none-to-happy about it- but before she could expand, the weight of his second question hit her. a frown furrowed across her features. "yes." she answered - and it was true, although in the present she felt none too confident about the rocky ground she stood on. "how do you know terance?"

Her answers are short, guarded; he gets the feeling his company isn't entirely welcome. He uh... knew someone at my old pack, He says, one ear flicking. We've only met a couple times. I um — actually have to be somewhere soon, but it was nice to meet you. I hope everything works out for you. So he bids her farewell and does what he's always done best — gtfo.