Meadowlark Prairie Get some whipped cream on the top too.

It lacked the fervor of her youth, yet the temptation that tugged at her merely because he was a man still caught Towhee off guard. It frustrated her in equal measure. She felt too old for this shit, yet clearly her body disagreed. She took some steadying breaths as the telltale scent slowly wreathed her.

Nothing, she ground out in reply to Cinar’s question, orange eyes dancing like flames as she stared at him, and everything. Towhee stared at him for a beat, as if assessing, then added, I’m fine, Cinar. Go home. Keep an eye on things. There’s something I need to do.

There’s someone you need to do, the Redhawk’s inner voice supplied as Towhee tore her attention off the male in front of her—a fine enough specimen, though not what she wanted now that she had the presence of mind to be choosy—and glanced to the south.

Don’t follow me, were the only other words she said to Cinar, spoken out of the corner of her mouth.

She prowled away without even glancing at him, hoping he would heed her warning even if he happened to clue in to her scent. Towhee didn’t want to have to fend off an unwanted suitors. She could only hope she wouldn’t cross any others as she broke into a ground-eating lope, one face and one face only burning in her mind’s eye.