The Sunspire the greater the love, the greater the loss.

Her response was a positive one—one that would've calmed his nerves under different circumstances. For some reason, Fig still felt tense. Even more so when she came near enough to touch him, though he had to admit, he didn't like it when she moved away again.

If there was any innuendo in her comment, it went entirely over the Redhawk's head. Fig nodded once at her suggestion, then leaned down to dig his teeth into the soft space where the doe's leg met its stomach. He tore into the meat, enjoying the warmth that flooded his tongue. It had been over a week since he'd eaten, and as much as this strange woman interested him, instinct dictated his priorities.