Swiftcurrent Creek the pointy end

“Sure,” she drawled, quirking a brow at him as she cast him a doubtful albeit playful glance. Rickon was a charming, endearing fellow; October didn’t need to question his ability to make the women swoon at his paws if he so desired. She said nothing more on the matter, offering her companion a teasing nip to the dark hairs of his shoulder.
 
Somewhere in the shadowed recesses of her mind a quiet voice reminded October about the dismal task she’d set out for. The thought caused her cheerful expression to falter momentarily, orange eyes darkening as she felt a dreadful lurch in the pit of her belly.
 
But Rickon was quick to encourage her storytelling, something October was exponentially grateful for in that moment. They could still search for the children while she shared a story. Surely they wouldn’t miss a scent or sighting if either presented itself.
 
She was quiet for a moment as she attempted to conjure up something, anything that might entertain her friend. Then, she looked toward him with an expression of good-humored curiosity. “What about a hero of the comedic sort?” she asked, grinning as her mind began stirring with ideas.