A Multitude of Casualties || Quick
Quinn wasn't exactly sure about spending all this time with Puck. It made her... Tentative, to say the least. He seemed to prod her to accept the other side of what she was, and she thought, a little, that it was like her father. During pack hunts, Quinn always hung back, watching everyone rush ahead like wild animals. And that's what they were. They were wild animals. She didn't want to look like that. She didn't want to look crazed with hunger and bloodlust. And usually, one of the elders would watch her until either she gave in and joined or the elder gave in and left her behind. She knew people must think it was a holier-than-thou thing, but it was her and her distaste for feeling out of control. Controlled was something she prided herself in being. But if she could be a wolf and control herself, that would be something almost unattainable.
As Quinn slowed down to a walk as she came upon the Puckerman's residence, she squinted in the pale sunlight at the house. It was admittedly, not as baroque as hers, but nice all the same. Money wasn't a secret in the pack. Hell, nothing was a secret in the pack. Taking her earbuds out of her ears, she chuckled lowly and whistled a high pealing long whistle, hoping he'd get the clue. "C'mon, Puck." She said at a regular volume, not really sure if he could hear her or not, but just in case he could she added, "I'm ready to beat you now."
