Redhawk Caldera Dr. Who

Pantaleimon smiled awkwardly when Sebastian said she had the right motivation. Pan didn't feel that way at all: her motivation was based solely upon the fact that it was a requirement for being part of the pack nowadays. Her fortes did not lay in the areas that Peregrine desired, she knew -- well, for fellow pack mates, anyway; apparently the fields of love were different -- and she was feeling rather useless thinking about it all.

Peregrine provided distraction when he spoke of wrestling. Pantaleimon did not read into any possible double entendres, didn't notice them, and she looked hesitant for a moment before agreeing with a nod. "Sure, we could do that." Pan knew she wasn't very good at it, but that was probably the point of it all. "It helps that I'm kind of big, so uhm, sometimes I can pretend li-like they don't want to mess with me and it's enough." It had been enough plenty of times in Sirensong Cove, anyway. These were different lands, but wolves remained the same. Most would not risk their hide one on one for something as stupid as trespassing or food. Most chose to be safe rather than sorry and never found out just how easy it would've been to hurt Pantaleimon when she was defending pack lands.