Grouse Thicket Schmoyoho, accent on the yo.

When he didn't reply and instead came rushing at her unexpectedly, Towhee's lust-hazed thoughts cleared long enough for her inner voice to querulously shout, Really?! Ain't nobody got time for that! Then she felt the force of Kaertok colliding into her and the power behind that impact made her insides burst into metaphorical flame. She didn't consciously remember the time when Rye and Ailil had fought for her and how the scent of blood had driven her wild, though this single hit was enough to stoke her fire. She was impatient to fornicate, yet what woman didn't love a bit of rough foreplay?

Besides, feeling Kaertok's heat and strength pressed so forcefully against her body did all sorts of things to her. Towhee allowed the collision, bracing her legs to avoid being thrown off balance, then leered at him. She dropped, waving her rump (perhaps the scent would distract him, giving her the upper hand) before diving upward, aiming to grab him by the throat.