Swiftcurrent Creek [m] half a mind that keeps the other second guessing

silvertongue did not simper nor blush; she did not smile, nor did she become coy. there was instead a near impercetible pull of pupils, the slightest flickering of ears to hear wren's angered tone. "surely you did not think yourself the only woman between creek and river," silvertongue murmured; swiftcurrent had always been painted in feminine scent despite the brawn of its leadership. "rejoice, wren; you may fuck them as well, if it is your liking. i am not a threat." especially if she aspired to wife. both arric and akavir enjoyed their interludes with her, but silvertongue knew the set of men, and their hearts, and love — yes, yes! in this, wren was her own rival, or would have been had the riverwolf loved anyone outside of crowfeather.