<div class="floatright">(http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/Amber_1280x420.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Amber Vanlaer<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Steve/Harley-Jaclyn-Nathaniel/Open<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Fireside Group<br/><hr/><br/>"-It's not a private anything with the way he rang the bell for the whole living, breathing lot of us to come." Amber rumbled to Steve before anyone else could answer. One hand fell to her hip and cupped it snug while the other gave a flourished sort of wave to the sky above. Casting an eye to the 'private party' the eldest wolf had haloed about him, she drank them in one at a time, and in a moment of childishness, felt like a dove making a poor attempt at a quartet with a trio of cardinals. Hey. It was a brunette thing. Dark as sin in the winter, auburn and almost-but-never-red in the summer. A little admiration was only natural.<br/><br/>After fighting off the urge to grin, she returned her eyes, ears, and nose to more important details. Having only caught the tail end of the blonde man's musings in regards to the fiery friend under his arm, Amber couldn't find a reason to interject any further. But their body language spoke enough; for all of them. The other red heads too. Tension, joy, hunger, grief, contentment, and even fatigue- they all stood out amongst the wilder scents that clouded the air of the party about them. What interested her most of course, was Nathaniel. And his comments towards the church. Hell, he was what interested them all.