Swiftcurrent Creek angel dust and my dress just comes undone

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They had traveled to the creek—his thoughts vaguely lingering upon why the she-wolf was so invested in returning to assist a stranger, and yet unwilling to delve too deeply into it. His pennies were spent—his fucks had long since flown away. He remained a shell, for now.

She spoke—over the dull rush of creek waters and drawing his gaze to her.

All it needs is a feminine touch, she mentioned—an attempt at lightening the mood, perhaps?

“And what does that entail?”