Bearclaw Valley I’m your toy, I’m your toy, I’m your toy

she was not a wolf of guile - the inflection in her monosyllabic utterance was genuine. she looked upon him as he took a step towards her. there was hesitance in the ground he covered and she knew it.

if she were laurel, she might have guilted him or manipulated him further - she might have held this transgression over his head a while longer. she didn't though, because his simple compliment had mollified her and while she had know way of knowing for certain. she believed his statement was the truth. she was pretty. she thought so, anyway.

there was still some hurt in her gaze, but she also dearly wanted to reconcile with him. she might not have been angry anymore, but her ego was still a little stung. she offered a thin, short smile. "no."