Moonspear Undone

When Floki came closer and pressed his nose against her, the usually tactile Wildfire stiffened. She caught herself immediately and tried to loosen up but it was almost as hard as holding his gaze. Somehow, though, she managed to relax and even bump him gently with her own snout. Then he mentioned her neck and she froze all over again, scrambling mentally at the overly direct question.

"I fell," she repeated dumbly. "And slid. Yeah," she added to his suggestion that she might have run into something when she fell. Wildfire did not bother trying to elaborate. When he made a joke about a suit of armor—she was all for it, especially if it included a chastity belt—she tried to twitch her lips into a smile but she just couldn't.

It dawned on her suddenly how difficult it was going to be, keeping this secret from Floki and acting like nothing had happened. It was less than five minutes in and she was already failing at controlling her own behavior and reactions. When she looked forward, to a future full of trying to keep this thing hidden at all costs, she felt like she might collapse from exhaustion. There was the obvious choice—she could tell him what had happened—but it really wasn't something she could face.

The simpler (if not easier) option was to push him away, deflect him so he couldn't get too close and sniff out her corruption, her infidelity. That thought burned like acid in her throat. "I'm not feeling well," she said dully, eyes shifting sideways as she lost her ability to hold his gaze. She took a few steps, brushing past him, even though a small part yearned to reach back and cling to him. "I think I'm gonna go get some rest."