Swiftcurrent Creek our cup runneth over

She accepted with no outward sign of scrutiny, which garnered a perfectly roguish grin. Try not to get used to it; I’ll be even stingier in the winter, was his droll reply, making drawling, easy fun of the size of the carcass he’d offered her and at the same time implying it would not be the last. Had he known she would be his find that afternoon he might have put his sights on something of a little more value—even if it didn’t matter considering her response elicited the feeling that she hadn’t been expecting anything from him. His remark also managed to give away his intentions with the pack, in that at the very least he wouldn’t be leaving Swiftcurrent Creek before the following spring. He returned her gaze casually with a hint of interest. The more she caught of all that, the fewer questions he would be answering later.

His expression didn’t change when she suggested calling Scimitar, as Razo very frankly didn’t know who he was. Being quite good at thinking on his feet, though, he assumed the face he eventually put to the name to be correct. Serengeti had mentioned a number of names with neat little descriptions attached to each, and although she hadn’t mentioned that particular name he had managed to get a look for himself at the previous meeting where he had done a bit of cross-referencing. If he’s the burly bloke, sure. I imagine he can throw his weight around easily enough, he said as she turned to stow her gift away for safe-keeping. He didn’t know or care how capable the other male would be, but he would inevitably be useful as a third hand.