Sun Mote Copse but you're holding me like water in your hands

Hm, was Wren's immediate answer, followed up with a tilt of her head. I don't know. S'a little boring being alone, sometimes. Could maybe find some people to keep me in check. 
She wasn't entirely sure why she was still talking. Evidently, Colt did not care much for listening to her, which she supposed was well within his right. The discussion of life plans was not something that was previously agreed upon. 
She accepts the warm press of kisses to her leg, though she is careful about where he goes. It was always a risk, but the last thing she needed was to wander up to a new pack with a growing belly and hormonal imbalances, reformed by mutants that had made a home out of her. The possibility of it was something she would rather not worry about; it was starting to make her blood grow cold with anxiety, and that was not particularly conducive to the notion Colt was implying. 
You think you'll live long enough to see me again, if I go? She knew the answer, but she asks anyway with a flash of teeth and a dimpled grin. She could pretend, for a moment, that her body was a temple and not just meat.