Pam crossed her legs at her ankles, and she seemed not to care just how out of place she was. John's still clean cut good looks and all American Southern boy smile weren't much of a fit either. She looked at him carefully before looking over at the prey in question. Her hand rested on her little brother's.
"A game of pool. Arm wrestling. Drinking competition. Best them in some manly endeavor, all the while flirting with her. Though they may be the sort that they would rather rip your head off than lose to you. You're not exactly one of theirs, are you?" Her fingers tapped on his hand slowly, her attention still on John's target.
"You could simply go over there, glamour them all into thinking they want you to have her, and take her. It's not overly simple, but you've got Eric's blood in you. Glamouring the one she's hanging on shouldn't be too difficult." She looked back at Eric's male Progeny, a hint of a brow raise.
"Or you go over there, take her, and beat the shit out of those morons. You would have to explain yourself only if you kill or maim one. Keep your strength in check, and they may respect you, treat you as an alpha." She found humans fascinating; they were both predictable and surprising. She did like that strange dichotomy. "You are a male, and a warrior. What do your instincts say?"