Redsand Canyon matrimonium

Fennec didn't consider how much she'd warmed to him in just this short conversation, or how she'd gone from considering him a nuisance to caring about his opinions on her craft. From wanting to remain a ghost in this place, with no title or attachments, to actually wanting to participate in it's growth.

She'd felt invisible and ignored for so long that his genuine questions were like sunlight on a withered vine. Suddenly the things she was talking about didn't feel so meaningless.

Fennec had never liked romance. Bronco's gifts had always made her uncomfortable, and his words never mattered once the comfort of his touch was denied. The only things she'd ever cared about were guarantees, and the only gifts she'd ever appreciated were the ones that showed she was being heard.

She wasn't going to make the mistake of falling for this man. But she was feeling better and better about the decision they'd made. Fuck... her mom had been right. And she's going to be so fucking happy about it too. Fennec couldn't even be mad.

It depends on who is asking. Sometimes it's fun to mess with a stranger. But sometimes the things they want are important, and it feels like they need something real. That was a little sentimental, even for her. She'd blame the arm he draped over her for it, and the fact that she was more comfortable here than she could have imagined stepping into the den at first.

And if she comes back. What then? Then she'd be out on her ass in a heartbeat, back to her haunts on the fringe of the territory. But maybe she'd at least have a friend out of it, when all was said and done. She'd take what little she could.