Re: Wren + Ana: woods
She wasn't expecting a woman. The woods were filled, but mostly it was male footsteps that echoed off the trees and whispered into the night. Full moons, these woods howled. In between, the woods breathed and hid and sheltered, but she still wasn't expecting a woman. It was similar to the reaction when a woman entered the big tent at the end of the night, bellying up to the raised stage to watch the hooch, and it hardly ever happened. Wren could count on fingers how many times a woman had won her auction at the end of a night, and it was always a surprise. Pleasant, because touch was touch, and because Wren was a thing tactile. She didn't feel for women like she did for men, but she liked intimacy in all its forms, and she was as surprised to see this woman as she was to lead a woman into her trailer of an evening.
She smiled, and her smile was sweet. Nothing tarnished, this ringleted bird with her wings torn off, and the scent of vanilla and citrus clinging to skin that had been soaked warm and soft in a tub that morning.
"I'm not lost. I'm walking." She looked around, and she gave the dark-haired woman a curious tip of head, the little bird in search of knowledge. "What are you doing here? I haven't been this way before." Her English was perfect, and her voice was husky promises on the wind. She had no accent to speak of, but her cadence was low songs, and unique enough to be a thing memorable, especially on a diminutive blonde in galoshes.