Silver Creek takes two to tango

"I like a guy with scars" she chuckled, but not in a flirty way. Matter of fact more like. "but most men don't like women with 'em." They were intimidating, or so the rumor went. Wren wasn't well versed in courting, and was bullshitting her words at this point. Derg, the man's name, strolled to the side. She judged he was better at this than she was.

Used to it, even. What the hell... about the Saints that screamed bloodthirsty and violent? At least the man didn't seem to be compared to the others, but the key word was 'seem'. He could flip a switch. Wren judged the distance before lunging at him, giving the wolf plenty of time to prepare should he freak out that she went at him.

Seeing as he was used to facial scarrings, she tried to grab at his left shoulder instead. Her jaws snapped open, trying to close around the tender muscle there. But she wouldn't draw blood - or heavy blood. They had a deal.