no rest for the wicked

Where, why and whom did not matter to Remi. She was finally liberated from her despair and fear of being alone. Her crooked nub of a tail continued to wave even as her paws floundered over the slick marsh. Her legs splayed awkwardly, crossed over each other in opposing directions. She unfolded her limbs and attempted to steady herself. The sudden touch of his muzzle against her side spooked the girl and her strained tone could only release a pitifully soft whine. Teeth did not break her skin, but the memory of mouths on her flesh made her tremulous. His next words were a request for her story and she considered strongly whether a lie would appease his curiosity. She knew as soon as the sinking sensation swelled within her gut that she did not dare to decieve him. He'd be able to tell. Remi was a terrible liar. She averted her eyes from him as she began. "...I...I did a bad thing, Sir. I was punished," she confessed, bowing her so low at the shame of it that her nose was touching the ground. "I...laid with someone...sh- ah he was mated," she quickly tried to cover up her slip up, fear forcing her tongue into a poor white lie. At his prompting she stepped carefully on the path he had chosen and found herself more comfortable.