Hoshor Plains [m]y blood is a flood of rubies

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: heat, conception likely!

she awoke that day more irritable than typical, a stirring in the depths of her leaving blood hot and mind fogged. she chalked it up to over socialization and the presence of more bodies near the lake. a headache is what it was, or what it started as.

as the day went on the headache turned to that of an insatiable itch, one she tried soothing through a swig of cool water or a nap beneath a shaded tree. but when she awoke it was only more prominent, and instinct took it's course to guide her against foliage in the pursuit to leave her mark.

she wandered through the open plains, the midday heat striking her down in unrelenting waves before finally it dawned on her the truth of what this was, of what this meant. she immediately lifted her crown to call for @Arktos, summoning him to her with a fever and desire she'd not shown him before.

arktos is summoned by a fevered voice, a little unusual to him, piquing his curiosity until he drew nearer. the sound of her voice echoing in the compass of his mind fades and he follows the pheromones making him nose blind to everything else.

right to his wife.

it's a familiar scent to him, heaven and hell sent and he is relieved that it is nephele this time.

incoherent thought, the ability to form words has run as dry as his tongue suddenly felt; so he settles for a rumbling croon; denying himself touch until she has granted him her permission.

it was not out of any romantic fondness or devotion that she let out a purr at the sight of her husband. she desired him now for the same reasons she desire him upon their first meeting. it was the highest compliment she could offer to a man, and so when arktos stopped to wait for the permission he sought, she granted it in a sweeping brush to his side.

she turned to him with batting eyelashes and a fogged longing in her gaze. her paws treaded with feverish excitement and expectation as she rounded him once more, offering a kiss to his jawline.

no words need spoken of what her body commanded.

the brush of her side against his draws a shiver down arktos' spine, slithering like the serpent of eden; tempting.

coiling. ready to strike.

it is her permission, he realizes in the breadth of seconds that follow.

he offers no crooning words of love; there is only the possessive rumble that lingers in his chest as he takes her into his arms, drawing her into his embrace.

---

when it is done, he withdraws to give her space, though not as he did the first time with the stranger, not putting measurable distance between them. he lingers close because she is his wife and this is his purpose.

there is a churning sense of power that brews within her as their dance transpires. there'd never been a measure of lust that she'd known outside the promise of children, and so it is with a different pleasure that she enjoys the length of their coupling.

when it is said and done she is left satisfied in both body and mind. he'd been the only one she'd known in this way, and he'd not disappointed in what was a bar set high.

she knew it would be some time until the confirmation of whether or not the greatest of her ambitions would take root, but they had many days to spend together until that time would come. she stood to stretch out what would certainly be a sore back in the coming hours before moving to place satisfied nibbles to her husband's neck.

there is the burning glow of a desire not yet extinguished, and she made to tease him through enticing kisses and inviting purrs. she pranced away a few paces, hoping to draw him near again and spend the remainder of the day in his arms.

felt like a good place to wrap, so i went ahead and archived it. hope that's ok! <3

arktos, while not a man that necessarily enjoyed being teased, understands that it is nephele's way — in her season as she was — to entice him. though, would the warbear be truthful: he did not need to be enticed.

her scent alone drew him in like a helpless moth to a flame and it would keep him possessively close to her until her time waned; eager to draw her into his embrace whenever she wished for it.