Cedar Sweep The wrath of God in a bottle.

The boy seemed friendly enough, if not with a bit of a holier-than-thou demeanor. She didn't mind much, rather adjusting herself to fit within his scope. Moonstone, but I suppose you can call me Luna. It had been so long since anyone had used the childhood nickname of hers, but she quite liked the way that it sounded and thought that she ought to use it more often. I don't. I don't live anywhere, actually. At some point, she knew that she'd have to find some place to settle, but travelling beneath the stars was plenty enough. 

Moonstone studied the unique markings of his pelt, taking mental note of how smooth the colors seemed to flow. You're very pretty, you know? Handsome might have been a better word, but it certainly didn't feel better coming from her mouth. As far as she was concerned, Ceallach was pretty, and there was nothing wrong with telling him so.