Dawnlark Plains don't call [m]e grimgram

"Mh-hmmm," Sunspot hummed, lowering herself someone stiltedly to the ground as she attempted to accomodate for Grimalkin's comfort as well. Those legs just couldn't carry her any longer; she felt as though she were trying to stand on pudding-filled balloons rather than muscle and bone. "So tired," she added, her voice distant and sleepy. Still, she craned her neck to try and attack the male's face with more kisses and nibbles, more defferential than flirtatious, now. There was something about a good romp that nearly always left Sunspot in this embarrassing, pliable state. She'd swear away her allegience, dignity, and younger sisters to a good lay.

"Pay attention to me," she demanded weakly, trying to regain some semlence of control. But her tail still beat the ground in senseless compliance - later on, she'd scold herself, but right then, it seemed like a fair trade.