Ankyra Sound das klagende lied

Wylla's face twisted and she laid her ears back, affronted. "Ew, no!" Her, bed him? Why, the nerve! Of course, Grimnismal was sorely lacking in eligible men of any sort. Ingram and Lycaon were family; Arrille was like the dough boy, and cowardly to boot, which took his sex appeal from probably-existent to completely-dead; and Kierkegaard was old enough to be her great-grandfather. Or maybe even her great-great-grandfather.

So, even though Mahler's suggestion was completely disgusting and uncalled for and wow did he really just say that, because her standards for herself were far lower than for anyone else, his prospects were pretty good. "As long as you don't creep into my sleeping quarters at night, you lecherous fiend," she warned, with a grimace that promised violence if he tried it, "you can stay, I guess."

Only because he wasn't gonna be shacking up with her brothers like just about everyone else seemed to want to do—or maybe that was just her overactive jealousy.