Silver Creek girl, you might even provoke me

Once upon a time, Cyclone had met a gentleman named Tantalus. Or was it Aaron? She swapped the names so often in her head she could not recall which was the correct one to say when speaking to him. She had followed him around for some time, and eventually she had met his son, Grayson. Now, this pack of wolves was rather proper and wanted her to be ladylike, but Neasa had never been anything along those lines. Still, she had tried. At least her flirtatious attitude had managed to get her places, even though she refused to settle down.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had settled down with some idiot for a few months, done the whole spiel, but she had never felt anything for him. And when he vanished one day, she was more relieved than anything, though she grieved to make herself look like she cared. It was only a few months after that she had started to flirt endlessly with Grayson, making hints and suggestions this way and that. It was not because she felt in love, but because he seemed the most capable of the bunch.

She flopped down beside him, pressing her body against his. ("For warmth," she would tell him if he asked.) How much further are we going to travel? she asked, preening her white stockings.