Ankyra Sound A million dreams for the world we're gonna make.

always!

as winter formally passed into spring, drawing daylight longer, traces of life stirred in spite of winter's parting shot of bracing chill, hemlocks shuddering snow down on their backs and fresh tulips shagged in rime. still and all, the cheerless gray that painted their world for so long washed away from the canvas to reveal a promising vignette of tasseled green--once immured in snow now demanding to be seen, snowdrops and bluebells and daffodils were among the first of florets to peek through the white groundcover. busy robins plucked white mulberries from wizened twigs and set to the task of nesting in the budding trees overhead.  

unbeknownst to him, there was an incipient flowering occuring elsewhere; the unintended fruits of his and Nyx's labors took root. together with the waning prepotence of winter, their time spent apart prolonged until it had been days before he again sought out the flaxen woman's company (or she, his). it went mostly unobserved, as did most things in nature, that somewhat of a tolerance had developed to whatever intoxicating effects her proximity had on him before. he did not feel the possessive urge to drive everyone away from her, or release an impressible tension in his loins, and was more comfortable leaving her for long periods of time to do his own thing.

just as so, he missed her company and attention. after some searching throughout their usual trysting places and hearing the plashing near a stream, the gallant found her slaking her thirst and harboring a seriously miserable look upon her face. he moved with pensive steps, huffing to announce his presence, and then moved alongside her to lap at the creek's bitterly cold waters as well.

"hey. not feeling well?" he lifted his head and asked after letting the moment of silence fall between them. his whiskers twitched with the desire to reach out and touch her, but a small kindling of intution advised a more reluctant approach. cheeks he was used to as being mantled with arousal were now qualmishly pale, and his initial thought was that she'd eaten something that didn't agree with her.

the possibility of pregnancy didn't even politely knock on the door--much less enter his mind.