Hideaway Strath The sun caught in her raven hair Is blazing in me out of all control

Oddly enough, Lotte did not take offense to Hemlock’s show of dominance and responded instead with a rare and overt display of submission. When the fireflower lifted her head and tail, the ambrosia of her season thickening the air of the clearing, Lotte went meek and mild. Small, bearlike ears skimmed back against her broad crown as she licked eagerly at the older female’s chin, her tail whipping wildly against her hocks even as a whine of supplication surged up through the column of her throat. She was an eager participant in the game as Hemlock danced away, but the frustrated curl of her lips was very real — imperious, she didn’t want Hemlock to put distance between them and lunged forward on surprisingly spry paws belied by her thickset appearance. “He knows,” she assured the other female, aiming to place a swift nip against one tantalizing hip. She probably should have thought of something teasing to say, but to atone for the lie she lived, Lotte found it necessary to employ honesty whenever possible. She elaborated with a greedy grin: “He knows that we all three of us belong to one another, but in particular — you both belong to me.”