The Heartwood [m] partyin' to hella late

hehe, thanks! ;p

It was something of a unorthodox concept to Tatum: someone actually wanting her in their pack. Though it was extremely likely if she looked closer at his offer she might have came to the assumption that it was simply because his Silvertip needed more bodies to occupy it; but even if it would have been true it would have been a start. Foxhound hadn't really wanted her but kept her because she was useful, simply they blanketed her non-binary, bisexual “oddness” (as the alpha of Foxhound had so politely put it once) and in the process nearly smothered her to death (perhaps literally). She hadn't been in the best place shortly before she decided to leave Foxhound, torn because she wanted her freedom without being oppressed for being who she was, but hesitant because Foxhound had been all she'd known. Leaving Foxhound had been the best decision she'd ever made, though. 

FitzDutiful smiled at her when she'd accepted his offer. Tatum's answering smile had border-lined cheeky as it played at the corners of her lips. With his tail wagging like that, she was reminded of an excited pup, despite that Mr. Buff as fuck was obviously very much an adult. “I've been told I've got a mean ass bite.” In which she took pride in. She was devious enough to play dirty when it came to sparring, using feigns and her “feminine” appeal that she was aware of to try to grasp her advantage; and she might have “all bark” but she was also “all bite”. Tatum's ex-lover had also said that her 'mean ass bite' made her a rough lover, but she didn't share that with FitzDutiful. Even as a joke it would have been too personal. 

“I've got nothing to see to,” She had no ties in these Wilds, and no one to inform. The rebel was more alone than she'd ever been, but instead of finding it lonely she had reveled in it. “Lead on,” She encouraged with a gesture of her muzzle, silver eyes gleaming with her typical mischief.