Swiftcurrent Creek flume

It was possible that Lecter's concoction was still within him, imbibing him with this bold sense of entitlement to the girl. Had he been clear-headed perhaps Njal would have recognized Fox as the leader - not as his wife - and avoided the entire situation. It was not something he could control.

Perpetuated by Fox's reciprocated physicality, Njal placed himself closer to her. His silver fur slid against her ruddy side, nearly cat-like if the boulder of a man could be such. He murmured a pleased sound, a hungry sound. His snout buried between her shoulders, wiggled along the point of her spine, so many things and with such a desperation! Playfully (or predatory with all things considered), Njal slid one of his front limbs against Fox's hip. A second attempt brought it over her rump as he directed her in to a hug with strong implications.