Cedar Sweep Western Red Cedar

The vibrant red eyes before him dance; a flaring of pride from deep within bringing them to glimmer. Hawthornn's chin lifted slightly as more of the rabbit's blood welled beneath her cruel grip.

Even if I wanted to lie, I'm not just gonna rip a catch out of your jaws. It's not right.

He sat quietly as his honest criticism was mocked. The scope of judgment flipped onto him as she cast a merciless eye over him. Scrutinized to the bone, he was. Not that the waifish girl before him had much to loft over him; even half-starved he was still a weight-class above her.

Closer now, a pack's scent gently rose from her pelt. It made sense, she had said we, hadn't she? Had he the chance to consider it further, he would have inquired as to where her packmates' whereabouts were.

Yet the devilish girl desired his immediate attention, calling for him to answer her with a gleeful expression and a childish tilt to the head.

Hawthornn slowly drew his gaze over her, the time taken before he answered being the only thing he had in his control.

Even if I wanted it, I don't think you'd pass it over for free. Hawthornn tilted his head as she did, a quirk to his brow. Am I right?