Redhawk Caldera (M) Don’t click play.

Oblivious to the ire she’d stirred within Cinar, Towhee waited until he was gone and then waded onto shore. She resisted the urge to shake and simply stood there, drip drying. The night air was cool, though her core burned so hotly, she didn’t even notice.

Her sharp eyes spotted movement in the darkness. Towhee leered at the approaching silhouette, warily at first and then downright lewdly when Hotah’s features registered. He was a man; he was healthy; and he had come when she’d called.

He had some questions, of course. Towhee shook her head, mustering patience she didn’t feel. It didn’t help that her wet skin felt as if it was crawling with fire ants. The burning! The itching!

Orange gaze boring into his, Towhee said, It’s you I want, Hotah. I won’t even charge you a marmot for your troubles. And no strings attached, she mused, eyes flashing almost in challenge, unless you want them to be.

She would give him a solid sixty seconds to decide.