Phantom Hollow capture the erymanthian boar

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Wren's only other offering to the stranger is an indignant huff. Aside from his choice to refer to her as Akavir's woman as if she were nothing but a hunk of flesh, the last thing she needed was to involve herself more in petty drama she had nothing to do with. Frostbitten gaze is then turned towards Akavir, silently padding after him. 

She knows what that look in his eye means. She cannot decide if she loves or hates it, but with the fogging of her mind, right now, she drinks from it. 
Her tail whips up into a sway, the warm mouth on her shoulder only fuelling her fire. Whether or not this is a mistake matters not in this moment. Well, hi to you too, she purrs, low and throaty and teetering on the edge of desperation. 
Burning, burning, burning.