Swiftcurrent Creek preacher's daughter

Mae had decided to keep her mouth shut, and it made Wren feel a twist of pride. Perhaps she'd learn from this. More likely not, but she could let the false hope live. 
It's no problem, she gives a cool shrug of her shoulders. you've got quite the handful with her, huh? The pouting displayed by the brat brings about a stroke of something akin to pity. She didn't know any better. An awkward pat is given to her shoulder before Wren's attention is back on her leader. 

It's almost a matter of physical strength to hold herself back; the eye contact alone is damn near intoxicating, and enough for warmth to rush to her cheeks. God, he's your alpha, what the fuck? Get a grip!
I think I'm going to, uh, travel for a while, wait it out. Go somewhere she won't waddle after me. There's a nervous twitch to the corner of her eye. Just until it's... gone. But, she swallows hard, an ambiguously suggestive lilt to her voice, a tone that goes right over her own head. I won't be too far, if I'm needed.

She makes a mental note that her first order of business would be to submerge herself in cold water.