Swiftcurrent Creek Indigo

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His voice makes her pulse race. She knows she should look away. Her senses fill with the trickle of the creek, the chime of songbirds. Her awareness shifts, her body is lively. Her paws suddenly ache to devour mile-long stretches of forest, to give him a chase.

If he got close, would she like what she saw in his eyes? Would he like what he saw in her’s?

Or would he smell the scorch of desert on her skin? Would he see she was a whore? Would he smell the real reason she was here?

It was Eset who was the danger.

“I am here for a drink,” she lies.