Meadowlark Prairie Retreat into your mind

Gavriel barely catches her name once it is spoken. Soft, strained, a voice that draws him in. He thinks to look back but he holds still as he moves his ministrations to her shoulder. Should she remain in place, his intentions clear, he'll find the center of her smell. His brown eyes close and he leans in to her, feeling his own swelling with excitement, that her pulling away surprises him.

His jaw tightens and he suppresses a growl, frustrated that she'd pull away from him. Her stance remains stiff, dominant, and he attempts to match her posture. Gavriel isn't sure what she might want to gain his prize, to show her that he is a suitable candidate to satisfy the hunger she no doubt feels burning between her legs. It is his own hunger that drives him, but he resists anyway and a strangled whine escapes his throat.

"Forgive me," is all he can manage, one paw lifting as if he might advance but he doesn't, placing it back in the ground. He would not force her to give in to him, no matter how much his loins beckon for her to engulf him, and instead he waits to see if she'll come to him.