whoomp there it is

He hurtled over 'pleasant' at 10 miles an hour without slowing. His jovial nature becoming something more alarming as his voice purred at her. Alarm zinged through her vains, her senses screamed 'danger, danger!' The memory of what she had escaped from was too close to the surface for anything about sexual interest to be anything but a fright to her. She was reminded of her aching paws, her mad dash that had spanned days. Freedom. She would never give up her freedom again.

Part of her confidence shriveled, and she leaned more heavily against the cave wall. She could feel her pulse quicken. She didn't like being reminded of her fear. She wasn't a victim anymore, dammit. "And what, pray tell me, would you do with the gift of my name good Sir?" Her voice was sharper now. Disguising fear with anger. She purposefully didn't use the name he had given her. She wanted to alienate his overly familiar bearing.