“<b>Thank you,</b>” Loretta said, tipping her glass to the barkeep as before tilting it back to take a long swig of mead. After the liquid slid down the back of her throat, she sighed happily at the feeling of the warming liquid. She loved indulging in human practices. The drink did very little to dull her senses, but that wasn’t what she enjoyed about it anyways. It was the texture and the distinct taste that earned her appreciation.<br/><br/>She didn’t get to bask in her little indulgence for long, for the seeds she had sown worked. To her right, the empty barstool was taken by the man who she’d exchanged glances with earlier. The whiskey was heavy on his breath, but he was still coherent, coherent enough for his words to not slur. Coherent enough to invite her over to a den of wolves. Lucky for her, she had wolves for breakfast. She preferred, however, to take down her prey one at a time, even if her prey was cozying up to her a little too quickly.<br/><br/>“<b>You’re sweet,</b>” she told him in response to his invitation, not a single bone in her body believing the words she was using to charm him. He wasn’t particularly handsome though, and his forward manners just made him seem too easy. If she was hungry, she would’ve taken him without a second thought. But she was quite well fed at the moment, so he seemed like the leftover meat of a carcass to her. That thought was reinforced by the way his hand (which felt a little sweaty to her, but it could’ve been her projection of his low worth to her) slid up her bare thigh under her dress.<br/><br/>She let it slide for a little while but stopped by crossing her legs. Her voice still as sweet and low as honey, said, “<b>I don’t know... I’m a one man kind of woman. I like pleasing him, giving him everything he wants, everything he asks for, everything he fantasizes about when he’s alone in the dark.</b>” Her eye contact never broke as she spoke and while she physically denied him of what he was after, she continued to bait him with her words. She was toying with him, teasing his limits. It was almost like she wanted to egg him on, to get him to do something that he’d regret. “<b>So I’m afraid I must pass on your offer, handsome.</b>”