Bearclaw Valley whatever it takes

The arrogant way in which he spoke made Laurel think that he must be some sort of prince — self-proclaimed or no — and she wondered if he had anyone to back up this claim. Then again, did it really matter whether someone was born heir to a territory, as long as they had the means to make it so. She remained on the floor as she looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow and asked, "If you're the heir, where's the rest of your family and pack then?" Maybe they had dispersed. Laurel knew all too well what that was like, though she would hardly consider herself the heir to Silver Creek. The place meant nothing to her; there was nothing for her there except for a slew of bad memories.

Laurel could not suppress a chortle when he said that he wouldn't turn down someone who also wanted to live here. Laurel picked herself off the floor, getting to her feet — making sure to keep her body language neutral at most, knowing she was treading on thin ice — and she tilted her head as she cast him a look that was intended to be charming — shy, humble, pretty and interested — and might've actually been charming, she bitterly reminded herself, had she looked a little more like her sister. "Is that an invitation? From a real prince?" she asked in awe while eyes sought his and she licked her lips. She just hoped this wouldn't be the moment @Indra would wake up and follow her scent here, because that would surely ruin any of her chances.