Dawnlark Plains don't call [m]e grimgram

Giving a little gasp and pretending to be affronted, Sunspot drew away from any further attempts at familiarity, even as she began to circle around the older male, her actions hinting at her hunger for his company. And he had a pleasant voice, and a pleasant way about him - the huntress couldn't feign disinterest anymore than she could bear to be called by a name other than her own. She was a proud creature, proud of who she was.

"Sunspot," she said succinctly, though she was partial to the way sweetheart had sounded in his rough voice. Suddenly, she decided that she could hardly care about his age, or that his testicles were slightly more wrinkled that she was used to. She was finding herself in a surprisingly agreeable mood, which boded well for the both of them. "But sweetheart'll do ya, in a pinch."

The shewolf paused to examine him once more, her gaze discerning as she stood to his 8 o'clock and then moved slowly to his 10, where she dipped her body in a languid bow. Let's see how limber we are, she mused, deciding that, if he passed this test, she would have no more for him.