Morningside Cuesta isn't hope an animal?

He worried, briefly, for her rough fall and his even rougher landing. He'd heard the click of her teeth and had winced, but she was laughing and wriggling, and soon enough, all other thoughts had fled. Grayday growled again - this time truly playful - to warn her against further attempts at escape. He had her, now, and his thoughts whirred in a dual effort to both come up with the next step in this game and, conversely, to thoroughly conceal it from himself.

He growl faded to an assertive grumble as he continued to hold himself over her, unwilling to let up his newly-caught prey. His own ears were deaf to the sound - the only thing he could hear was the loud, galloping tattoo of his heartbeat. She could feel it, doubtlessly, and at last, something like embarrassment forced Grayday to let up and relent, pulling back enough that she could escape, if she wanted to.

"Pinned ya," he panted, unable to catch his breath.