it was no simple task for lasher to chain himself, to restrain himself to the touch of teeth and tongue and muzzle, the flicker of tonguetip and the gentle sounds that rose in his throat as his ardor mounted. when at last peregrine pulled away, taltos was left heated, bereft for a single moment, but the words that floated forth beneath the odd glow of the deadened skies brought a small hitch to his breath.
he said nothing, merely stepped forward, his muzzle brushing against the devil's own with deliberate sloth before he stepped into the darkness cast by the trees around them, inviting peregrine to follow with a soft tip of his head. the other's passion would be his own, even unto the very zenith.
murkwater eyes watched peregrine sometime later; they reclined in the cool grass, though taltos had laid himself down some few inches away, unless some unwitting member of the plateau clan should come upon the pair. however, their mingled scents were thick in the air, a telltale puncture in the attempted discretion. he needed no words, only the nearness of the panther, and here lasher basked in complete, quiet pleasure.