Falls of the Hinterlands let's go up in flames, pretty lady

There is a wrinkle that appears between her brow as he moves closer.  From here she's able to see clearer the sharp sapphire of his gaze, and her own immediately falls to the water.  She doesn't need to be thinking about that, not right now.  Probably not ever again, if she was smart.  Letting people in was stupid, and all it ever did was get her hurt.  There would never be another Bruges or Siarut in her life.  The only exception would be Raven.

"Sorry?  Why do you apologize, Ceara?"  Because she feels like a child.  What does this stranger — or anyone, for that matter — care about who she's had sex with?  All she'd done was make things uncomfortable.  She focuses on cleaning the rest of the blood from her pelt — at least, what she can reach — before she responds.  

Ours, she corrects belatedly.  Revenge will be ours.  She couldn't — wouldn't! — do this on her own.  She'd need his help whether she wanted it or not, and for now she was in camp "wanting it".  She didn't know how he would feel about this kind of weird extension, but she hoped it'd give him something to look forward to because this guy seemed to really like killing people.

She trailed out of the water and shook off, then, shivering, made to move somewhere that looked the warmest.