Sunspire Mountains all the butterflies have turned to vultures in my stomach

silently she rose to all fours and shook her fur, shedding all the pinestraw from its mussed disarray. riley wouldn't engage with her further, this she recognized by the glumness cocooning his aspect. esme stared down at him for a moment, shrewish seeming but saying nothing as he offered her curt responses. his last comment was particularly amusing, that she could do whatever she wanted—"ah, he knows at least one thing. well done, for a soft maid," she snorted, gazing over his head and getting her bearings. 

in regards to donovan and her pseudo interest in exchanging sexual commerce with the libertine, she mused upon riley's particular sensitivity over the topic of him and found it rather curious and intriguing. the humour glimmed in her eyes. "go home and let that leg heal up, then do yourself a huge favor and forget about me," she suggested, making a few long bounding strides upland before she stopped and teasingly shouted "oh, and if it's not too much trouble, tell donovan his future bride sends her best regards!" at him before departing riley's eeyorish company through a copse.