Swiftcurrent Creek flume

Fox had been taught about the birds and the bees at a very young age. She knew, at least to some degree, where babies came from and what the process of being pregnant was like. Her parents, however, had skimmed over the gory details when it came to what went where and what it actually looked like. The yearling had never spied anybody doing one of these acts, nor had anybody shown her charts or drawings on how this whole "sex" thing was supposed to work.

So when Njal attempted to mount her, Fox took it as a sign that he was trying to dominate her. Her mood did the fastest one-eighty this side of the Mississippi, and in one fell swoop she was snarling and lunging at his throat. The fireball would not tolerate such insolence, especially from Njal. She had no intention of breaking the skin, but if she made contact, she would force him to the ground with all sixty-five pounds of her body weight.