Hoshor Plains lord hear me now, junkboats and english boys

iliksis was loathe to part the warmth of her flesh; this resistance was the closest he'd ever get to possessing an intimate relationship - he did not forge them, he took them -- and anatha's bucking form beneath him was a cold reminder that the only women to ever grace his bed would be women he forced there.

king elk forest meant little to him, but he kept the name on the tip of his tongue. "good." he crooned, unfolding one limb after the next as he extricated himself from within her with a suckling squelch. "i will come visit." he supplicated the ominous statement with a long lick of his tongue, hoping to lap up some of the freshly welled tears on her cheek he had seen moments before.

he had let go of her lithe form, though his gaze still lingered on her sylph-like construction. it burned in his brain -- and he would not forget the touch of her soft fur against his cheek for a long while. he fell in the snow a few feet away, his breaths coming in ragged inhales. he knew what would happen next -- like a stunned doe, she would likely rise to her splindly legs and flee. he would enjoy watching her backside retreat - and perhaps, would think of the lissom roundness of her haunches at a later date.