Sunset Valley i make the money, not wash the clothes.

She was stroking the rabbit's ears with her tongue, carefully, as he came crawling back.

Without looking to him, or up or away, she heard his voice and gave a small shrug. The woman of Sapphique had not taken kindly to her altar before and so Indra was reticent to share what this was; she was aloof about it, outwardly.

You left me. I got bored waiting. It was a half-truth. She could have followed after him as she was supposed to, rather than obsessing a little over the rabbit's head; within her was a warring sentiment. The memory of the pit, and the rabbit bodies that were her playthings, and soft moments such as this that had become so very rare for her.

She finally took her eyes from the rabbit's cleaned ears and looked to Colt as innocent as any child might. Did you catch anythin' else?