Deepwood Weald you waiting at ho[m]e for me saying what time do you call this?

[table width=85%][tr][td]

Arturo watched as Lotte rose to her paws as he made a wide circle around her for a moment his heartbeat filled his ears which smoothed back to rest against the sharp angles of the crown of his skull. There was a flick of his tail against his hocks — the only indication that besides the anticipation that buzzed deep within his veins was a heightened sense of nervousness. Despite his experience Arturo placed upon himself the pressure of making it perfect for her, of wanting to be worthy of her. For though he was not one to believe in such things he’d already painted his gangster queen as a goddess among mortal women and his desire to impress her was as strong as ever. His name upon her tongue drew his ears up from his skull and reminded him that he was not the only one to be nervous. It reminded him that she looked to him to guide her in this. He drew up alongside her slowly, ensuring that their bodies brushed, and made to draw his tongue against her jaw before he would offer it a soft nip. “Just relax Lotte,” He murmured huskily to her before he circled her again, tightly this time, staying close. “quiet your thoughts so that you can listen to your body.” Instincts would do what Arturo could not: she would know what to do on her own and in the end her body would tell her what she wanted. He drew close with the intent place a soft love bite against her left hip, pulling back to gauge her reaction.

[/td][/tr][/table]