pure sweet violent hearts

"I don't, not yet," the woman responded, and for a second Riordan felt a fluttering in his chest, an abrupt wave of surprise-tinged-hope flood his mind (both of which made little sense, but he wasn't too interested right now in thinking about it). He thought of mentioning the hollow - but before he had a chance to interject like the rude, enthusiastic asshole he apparently was becoming, she went on to mention a sister and some kind of invitation. As far as Rio knew, there weren't many packs in the area. He hadn't scouted for any of them though, so it was entirely possible (and probable) that there were many. All of them would benefit from having this pale beauty in their ranks (just think of the children).

(On second thought, don't think about children at all.)

He gave a knowing nod to his head and shunted his random thoughts out with each little bob. The wanderer's life was all about freedom and that was difficult to give up; it sounded like this lady wasn't quite ready to do that. It was a trade off. Give up some freedom, gain some responsibility; give up the difficult road of surviving on one's own, gain a job, a rank, and a family. 

"Ah, I'm in a similar situation," he remarked as casually as he could, given that a pretty girl was showing him attention after he had been not-so-subtly watching her bathe. "Met a lad travelin', got to know him, and now I think I'm enlisted with his little group." His tail wagged softly behind him, dusting his hocks like a lazy pendulum. "Are ya excited, or nervous?" (Sounded like he was asking them both that question.)