Whitefish River I'm So Fancy

The change in Mara's attitude was hard to not notice, he stopped his forward movement with a raise of his brow returning to a questioning look. He wasn't entirely certain if she was offended by his questioning or his open lack of respect for the self ordained alpha. He almost scoffed at the name she had chosen to divulge as a follower. If the name was an indication at the creatures stature; being called a runt by someone the size of this she-wolf, they must be a pigmy. The idea that this was more than just a chosen nickname didn't occur to the wanderer.

I half-frown followed when she failed to explain her reasoning for choosing this area to play host to, of course she had no reason to tell him anything. He couldn't help but feel a slight rush at the mischievous flash that followed her words. The painted male decided to play along. "Are you hoping I'll beg?" he cooed sweetly, taking another slow step toward Mara. "Or is there something else you need before telling me this little secret?" Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, and right now his curiosity was piqued for almost no other reason than the fact she wasn't telling him.