Barrow Fields a twist, a tale, a rip through my sail

lusca was, under no uncertain terms, unthrilled by the prospect of living under donnelaith's hedge -- but it was not that fact that caused tachyon to freeze. instead, it was the unheard of -- she slipped towards him, her muzzle stroking across his jaws. a fire-lick of sensation thrilled him and he turned to her, tilting his muzzle sideways to lick along her ruffled cheek. she did not strike back, nor scorch him with her draconian tongue. emboldened he placed a paw gently along her shoulder, a primal gesture that caused great stirrings in his stomach. but he was afraid -- he was timid -- he tipped an ear forward and looked upon her with the bashful question writ silently across his countenance. all of her prior dissent was forgotten -- for now, he wished only for her consent.