Hoshor Plains [m] what you want is what you get

Zoratto was young and ignorant of the world, but he knew what mating was. He had seen it many times in both his birth and slaver's khalas; it was a part of Dotharan culture. But he had never been so close to a female in heat before. The males of the pack would guard their wives jealously when they went into this period, slipping away with them; he would not see them for days before they would come back, the wife most likely pregnant. But this was a coyote. A slave. He had not mounted a woman before, and had no stirrings to do so, despite his sexual maturity. But he would not mount a slave, especially not in heat. Hybrids were not well respected in most lupine cultures, especially so for Dotharan.

He paced around her, eyeing her warily just in case she wanted to move onto him. He saw it, the lust in her eyes. "Re mobi ti coyote davofi zahae ihk wux ekess rumag mirth?"