Blacktail Deer Plateau sweet talker

“No.” 

Her sweet breath caressed his own, so close were they. Such nearness was entirely unwanted [and unwarranted] but Indie had not moved at all. The dark man had rushed upon her, and with such intensity that the tempest though he had mean to brutalize her! But no, he whispered menacingly in her feathered ear instead. Her tensed muscles refused to slacken and the fur along the back of her neck prickled, the sensation traveling up and down her spine. It was unwelcome and she did not like it but like hell she would back down from his challenge.

Her word was simple, but true. The vaudevillian wasn't yet settled on which show she would put on for him and would remain vague until she did so. And so she wondered: which of her facades would this particular man appreciate the most? Indie ticked her head to the side a inch; not yielding to him but rather seeking his own gaze, to attempt to read him. Perhaps he was a man who longed for a smoldering temptress… or maybe a lolita youth. Or maybe he was not a man unpossessed and unfettered by licentious thoughts, instead seeking something more political in nature... then she could have real fun. Or maybe he wanted nothing at all from her — if that was the case, that's what she would be, nothing. She could be either or any of the above and more; she could be anything she wanted. She could be anything he wanted. 

But for now, however, she would wait and see in pregnant silence. 



.

It wasn’t a wait at all!