Moonspear like the legends of the phoenix, all ends with beginnings

He remained aware of the state she slipped into, every touch lighting on the pattern he worked himself into. It was mimicry of her own, no doubt with the subtle flares he was bound to add. The wandering of his gaze also began to happen as well, the closeness between them offering him the advantage to trace over her visible curves, to study the muscles that relaxed beneath his gentle touch.

As he smoothed the guard hairs of her shoulder, his gaze returned to the unusual angle that profiled her face. A lesser hound would have taken advantage of such a moment and though he was certainly in anything to his own favor, desire was not something that bloomed here. His interest did not include betraying her trust, though there was a building temptation to tease the ear closest to him. Instead he worked along the rise of her neck and let his eyes close, focusing on feeling out anything out of place.