Blackbeak Bluff and i whisper "my wife,"

Her lip tugged up at the touch and her tail dared to arch over her spine. If he dared to get any closer or try anything she would see it fit to rip into him with teeth that were far too hungry.

She did not like fancy displays of words — puzzles, jokes, riddles — for she found them useless. Her features twisted to display her disinterest and disapproval. What does it matter? Her tones were deep and rough to conflict with her feminine features. If it's gone, it's gone. Gallo had no time for things that wanted to disappear.