Porcupine Ridge keep it in your pants, son

Saghani had moved with him for the while, and they moved in silence together. Each gesture she did demonstrated her intent, her meaning. While Saghani felt she had not left any ambiguity in the fold of what she had done, as they arrived to his homestead the woman found that someway, somehow, he had misread it all. Saghani observed him without mirth or ire. Instead, she gave him a cool, pointed look. He had made a decision out there in the place he had not lay claim to, and whether he liked it or not, he had lay claim to her out there. He brought to the fold a woman who knew her heart and who felt that her life led up to this very moment.

Her homecoming was off to a tentative start, but she would put it to rights swiftly. Saghani stared at him, and her posture matched his but did not go beyond that. Saghani took another step closer, her ears melting atop her head for a brief moment to show she understood, but they fanned upward to represent her own response. Together. Saghani would have balked at how he had fashioned the primitive woman she was, but this did not occur to her, because it seemed he had no qualms in laying with her when she presented herself to him; she took each moment he was atop her as a deepening of their oath. 

Saghani could not see how he did not understand, not being as imaginative as he was to conjure up the idea of a one-night-stand. She took a possessive step forward, now, though not toward the land, but toward him. He had sealed his fate with her, and she felt he needed no reminding.