Raven's Watch Her body is my canvas, painted with butterfly kisses

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It had been an act of impulse, his usage of his mother tongue. At first, he was unaware of his speech, knowing only that he understood the word and its importance. By using his voice, he was able to place a smile on the face of his master, a true accomplishment. The question that followed, however, made him freeze; it was brief, his recovery made quick as their eyes locked. With a slow shake of his head, Mazatl dragged his gaze away from the pools of amethyst, fearing that he might drown in their depths. “Tlācahuah,” he repeated, only, this time, there was a soft whine clinging to his voice. Keeping the meaning to himself, the boy pushed himself closer to Athan, muzzle once again finding its way through the thickness of his coat. It was for but a moment that his eyes slid shut, relishing the close proximity he had with the man and the way his fur felt.

Falling back into old habits—the lessons once taught to him were never without the power to overpower his mind—the yearling’s nose glided over pale fur, stopping again after reaching Athanasius’ chin. All along his jaw, there were soft, affectionate nips placed, leading towards the greater male’s cheek, onto which a kiss was deposited. He sought an opportunity, a chance for him to repay the man for all that he had done. The peculiarity of recognizing a man as his master was still something that he’d yet to fully accept, but that did not mean he was ungrateful. He knew of all that had been done since they were brought together, of how he protected the boy and fed him, as well as kept him from freezing. For all that had happened, as well as all that might, Mazatl wished to give his thanks in the only way that he knew how: with his body.

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