*Kingsley*
Pettifur. Pettifur. Pettifur. I call her by name more than usual because if I don’t, I'll begin to think of her as Penny. No, she will never be a Penny. It's too innocent, and while I don’t know all the details about her, I'm certain little innocence is to be found in her.
When I placed the necklace on her, when my fingers grazed the soft skin at her throat, it took everything within me not to trail my lips along the path my fingers had forged. Not to taste her, not to want her.
When she pulled out her notebook, I nearly barked out my laughter, but I held it in check, fearing I would hurt her feelings. Only Pettifur would hold true to her purpose in coming to a ball to ferret out the desirability of each of the she-wolves she's identified as the possible future Luna of Brinsl
