Cerulean Cape I can’t tell you anything

Whilst she was on the prowl, Alexander held his ground with his usual, self-righteous stance composed of a head held high and a tail fanning his backside—only there was something missing this time, minute enough to remain unnamed but still so great as to cause a noticeable difference.

Perhaps this Xan was not quite the same Xan.

When she spoke, his ears twitched before gradually folding back against his crown. She did not sound the same as before, her tone almost hopeless, it seemed. What had happened to her? Had she unleashed her rage on him, he would have understood—expected it, even—and yet she hadn’t. Rather, she came across as exhausted and lacked acid in her words. In a different life, he might have acted on his observations but, in this one, he forced himself to focus on his reasoning for being there; Indra was important to him in some ways, as she was once a friend, but her role in his life just wasn’t the same as the one he was after.

“I want Laurel,” he eventually answered her with. “I believe her now.” Which didn’t make the situation even the slightest bit better but he hoped it meant something.