Swiftcurrent Creek preacher's daughter

Oh. 
She found herself reeling upon hearing those words. Oh, god, she can't help herself. She melts beneath him, a puddle of heat that is desperate to crawl beneath his skin and stay there.
It's then that she closes the distance between them, tucking her face into the crux of his jaw. I'll be back in a week, she coos, every word dripping with longing. Longing that they both surely knew was a toxin. She doesn't want kids. She wants him. She doesn't care. This could ruin her life. Oh, god, she wants him. 
Teeth graze against a hardened cheek, followed by a bellowing growl; but not one of malice. I'm going to be heading through the Sunspires and toward the flatlands. If you change your mind, come find me. 

And of course, it's then that she can hear the snap of tiny jaws and puppy growls, scratchy and high-pitched. Because there's never a moment of peace. 
She exhales, peeling herself from Akavir's side and casting a glance over her shoulder as she takes her leave. And if she asks, tell her I'm going to... visit a healer. Her tail falls above her hips, a sway to them. See you later.