Big Salmon Lake Roses are red

She had always played games like this back home. Tempting the boys, getting her kicks by teasing them and running off before anything got serious; but it seemed as if this guy, whoever he was, knew the game as well. Perhaps he was even better at it than she was. Whatever unease had settled upon the nape of her neck had transformed with his idle compliment. Had she the ability, her cheeks would have blushed a soft pink.

Dove would not give in so easily to whatever he was after — which again, she didn't really understand — and chose to brush off the statement with a coy expression, a thin smile veiled by goading words. Not half bad? I'm pretty fabulous, actually. But you get points for trying.

There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as she said this, something she hadn't experienced before. It was light at first, like a little flutter, but then as Dove stepped towards him — past him, with a careful draw of her little body against his dark one — she felt the feeling grow stronger, like a fire. It was enough to spook her, and as Dove stepped beyond the dark fellow and in to the open space behind him, she contemplated an escape plan.