Phoenix Maplewood [m] Who's that little mouse

With a swivel of her head, the panting hunter greeted Reek with a saucy, not-quite-real pout. Wolves won and wolves lost when it came to the hunt. More often than not it was the latter. Reek knew that better than anyone, so Saena knew his jab was in jest. Still, she feigned a pout just for him, in hopes of entertaining him or at least giving their time together a lighter feel than their most recent, in which she'd been found beneath another man, however innocent that actually was.

Reek's teeth grazed her hindquarters and she turned smoothly to press her chest against his side in an attempt to pin him against a nearby tree. For a moment she looked truly furious, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye that revealed the charade. She was only playing with him. "How rude to watch a lady fail and comment on it!" she said, again with that pout, but it fell away into a simper that was more than a little lascivious.

Ah, who was she kidding? She and Reek hadn't really got it on since the fire and she was feeling particularly frisky now that they were named mates. She had no idea he didn't approve of her method; Saena wasn't much of a romantic, it seemed, so it never occurred to her that the grandeur of the occasion was swept under the rug by her practical approach. Nevertheless in the failure of her hunt she sought another kind of exhilaration, another rush to celebrate a joyous day, as evidenced by the provocative nips she placed without hesitation against the side of his neck.