Swiftcurrent Creek you aren't the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl

At her playful accusation of withholding party planning experience from her, he snorts, a light shrug lifting and a raising of his brows—as if to say she just would never know. It did seem a proper venue for the valley, though—the most middle ground between the trio of packs with the most open space.

And then, a challenge to him, and he felt his smirk broaden. “Then I suspect that means I’ll get to steal at least a little of your time during said party,” he offered, gaze boring down upon her. “Gives me something to look forward to.”