Stavanger Bay run doe run

Sizzle: [jeopardizes all of Doe’s time] >:O

It pleased Szymon to serve the odd-eared female — to watch her stretch out in the sand with her bright eyes fixed upon him. He was careful to pad the rocks with seaweed after a time — not because of the burgeoning ache in his jaws and neck, which he rather enjoyed, but because he needed his fangs to be sharp. The required blessing would bolster the unified spirit of Skellige’s wolves, but the borders would be fortified with their fangs and claws. His search for black stones brought him further and further away from the female, bidding his paws to move a bit quicker on every return trip. He paused at one point to watch her, her scrappy little body twisting and writhing about in the sand purely for the joy of it — and on his next trip back her eyes were peacefully closed. Szymon continued with his errand for quite some time, but couldn’t resist doing a quick “drive by” on one of his return journeys — letting his neck go slack as he shook out his pelt to loosen his muscles, he hesitated — and brushed his tongue over the crest of her floppy ear.