Hushed Willows The keeper of this host

He was in no hurry to right himself. Tambourine remained draped over the stranger's hind leg, head tilted as she nosed closer to him. With a grunt, he then pushed himself over the limb in question and shamelessly pressed his small face into her side. She was so soft. Without realizing he was doing it, he began to instinctively root around for a nipple in her plush, russet fur. He somehow managed to find one and latch onto it, tugging mercilessly when no milk poured forth to wet his tongue.