Blacktail Deer Plateau shoot down the moon, straight through the sky

 Starbelly felt the weight of the leader’s judgement upon her, but the veiled femme did not shrink under the scrutiny of it. This, the eyes of a crowd upon her, and her alone; this was the shit she lived for.  Here, she thrived. A smile settled upon her lips and she propped her shoulders upon pin-straight legs, certain that her acceptance into this group was night. The leader was an older man — good, she liked them older — and she decidedly avoided his gaze until he asked a question of her, directly.

“Oh, yes,” the starlet chirped in response. “Very willing, sir.”

The vaudevillian knew how to hunt and feed herself [She had kept herself alive this long, hadn’t she?] but overtly physical pursuits weren’t exactly her favorite. Despite her skill where moving her body was concerned, Starbelly could be counted on to hunt smaller fare and nothing more. No use divulging that now, though. Her smile turned into a simper, and she regarded each wolf in turn. There were so many things to say, so she must select her words wisely. What would Donovan want her to say? “If you would have me, sir,” she said again, dropping her gaze. “I would love to see your pack through the winter, especially the pups.” Gotta mention the pups. However, there was earnest honesty tinting her words — she didn’t want to make commitments she couldn’t keep, subsequently creating enmity in the eventual end of thing. That was an Indie sort of thing to do, and she funnily didn’t want to start this relationship on false pretenses [despite her whole identity being fabricated].  

Perhaps a long-term commitment would eventually be on the table, but Starbelly was not so quick to sacrifice the life she had toiled to create.