Sequoia Coast poptarts are ravioli

When Furi finally complied with his unspoken request, the hunger that had been rising in him suddenly leaped skyward. He remained calm, tactical, and studious in his movements, but there was a heightened sense of urgency about him now as he repositioned himself to counter his friend's shift of position. Whatever had been going through his head was gone by now. It'd probably be safe to say that it had been for a little while now, but in spite of everything, Artaax continued to perceive himself to be utterly in control, even as he hooked himself up around her waist and grabbed her ruff gently in his teeth. What was happening now was just a part of the information gathering process, to help him better understand what this heat thing was all about.

He wasn't wrong, technically.

A small part of her doesn’t know what to expect. With Aviana, she had been given instructions. But Aviana is a girl, and so is she. What makes it different with Artaax? Her ears flip back against her head the moment he moves to mount her and though they are comparable in weight and size, it feels heavy and awkward and… well, not necessarily wrong but not right either. She turns her head back a little when he takes her by the scruff, tensing every inch of her as he pulls them close and hugs her hips.
 
Much too vulnerable in this position, no matter how much she trusts Artaax, causes her to open her mouth and tell him to stop, but she doesn’t have that chance. His hips work against her and find their mark and she lurches forward in surprise. Strong limbs keep her in place and she endures his thrusts despite the discomfort.
 
Furi focuses on something else, her frustrations have been long gone, but soon he speeds up with vigor. Teeth grit against the sensation, digging her claws into the ground as she hopes for it to be over. It does not take long for his frantic movements to speed up, forcing himself all the way inside and locking them together (Aviana definitely didn’t mention this part) as he is spent, weighing down on her form while she supports the both of them.

It was........ interesting.

When Artaax finally parted from his friend, he knew that the experiment was definitely done with now. He felt a little dazed even as he placed all four paws back on the ground, as though only just now coming to after a brief coma. The sensations hadn't been entirely unpleasant - it had been rather nice, actually. Nice enough that he felt compelled to move up alongside her and press his nose against her cheek in an affectionate and extremely un-Artaax-like gesture. It couldn't be said that he felt any closer to her on a romantic or even emotional level. If anything, he simply felt more possessive of her, which was rather unfortunate for Furi, and for the sister he had completely neglected to consider (because why would he, exactly..?)

On the bright side, that was about the end of his sentimental reaction to the encounter. The hump hompleia fixed her with a curious stare as he backed up to give her space again. Any other boy may have felt anxious about his first time, wanting to know if he had been "good" for his partner, as though their enjoyment was any measure of his skill. Artaax didn't worry about things like that. Of course he had been good. He was great at everything, so why ask? No, he wanted to confirm something else.

"You're sure you can't get pregnant now?" he queried, in a tone that suggested he would actually be disappointed to learn that she could not possibly have just been loaded up with his bastards. Which - spoiler alert - he was about to be.

They don’t move for a while. Mostly because they can’t. Any effort to separate is met with extra pain and discomfort and so they wait in awkward silence. This brings on a whole set of other questions and she can’t exactly turn to see why he is still inside her, but he has taken the cue to wait until he can move again and eventually they break away. It’s an odd sensation and she’s about to turn to investigate (mostly herself) but he comes up to her side and brushes against her, pressing his warm nose into her cheek. She doesn’t necessarily react to it and ultimately sits down to inspect herself, cleaning up whatever mess the two of them left behind.
 
His question brings her attention back to him and she licks her lips, uncertain.
 
“No,” she decides to say, mostly to convince herself that she can’t. She hadn’t been in heat and hadn’t felt anything near the same thing she had when she’d been with Aviana. “I hope not,” she mumbles, more for herself, and stands up again. The added weight didn’t help her ankle any and she tries to relax and take some pressure off it. “Can we go back?” she decides to ask; the sooner they put this behind them, they better. “Don’t… tell anyone about this, okay?”

Again, Furi insisted that she couldn't get pregnant. He frowned softly, annoyed by that. He supposed they would just have to try again sometime. Or if Furi wasn't willing, he'd have to find someone else. It was not lost on him that only Dio and Thuringwethil had ever reproduced, which meant to him that it was the right of those that ruled to have children. Having his own litter struck him as a way to show the pack once again that he was something to be respected and admired. They already knew that of course, but it never hurt to give them even more evidence.

And it was due to that train of thought that he conveniently failed to notice the I hope not Furi had so eloquently tacked onto her statement. Otherwise he may have been offended. Or at the very least, horribly confused because... Well why on earth not?!!

To her requests, Artaax gave only a nod. Seeing as she wasn't pregnant, he saw no real need to brag about this to anyone, and he was definitely under the impression now that he had solved all of her and Blixen's relationship dramas with his intervention. Obliviously content with what had just transpired, the yearling began to head home at Furi's side just as she'd requested, now beginning to consider that it was probably time for him to go take care of his sister's emotional distress.

Lord, I can't even.