Wheeling Gull Isle and waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

He's fine- or so he claims, despite the fact that he'd seemed angry and emotional only moments earlier. But she takes his word for it, deciding to focus instead on his new question. His sniffing of the air does not go unnoticed, and she realizes what he's smelling- her. 

Um, She mumbles a bit awkwardly, gazing at him uncomfortably like a parent trying to decide how to give the talk to their prepubescent teen. I am different. It my, um, heat... She explains, accentuating the word heat with another wave of her tail, purposeful this time as if to further spread the scent; completely unaware of how inappropriate that was.