Sequoia Coast poptarts are ravioli

It didn’t take much effort for Artaax to forget what he was doing. Or rather, to forget that he ought to feel some social restrictions against poking and prodding and inspecting his friend as extensively as he had begun to so freely. The scent was an intoxicating one, though not enough for him to lose himself entirely to such small minded things as hormones. Instead, he lost himself to curiosity and his need to conquer anything and everything that vexed him. Often he conquered by deciding he didn’t care. This he sought to conquer by understanding it fully, and so his nose continued to trail along her fur as she moved and responded to his touch.

The boy paused only for a beat at the nip against his cheek. He glanced at her face, curiosity written upon it but not objection. It was an oddly familiar, playful move on her part - not the kind that they usually shared. But then again, none of this was typical for them, so he went ahead and nipped at her side, his tongue flicking out gently against her in a hesitant, exploratory motion that he forgot almost as soon as it was done.

It was somewhat deflating to learn that she could be impregnated, but not enough to stop him now that he had begun this little science experiment. She rolled, and he moved, stepping further down the length of her body to sniff at the newly exposed parts of her - areas he had never before explored on another, no less on a woman. The mysteries of intercourse and reproduction were lost on him in the more practical sense of it, but Artaax was not usually one to behave in obedience to his mind. He was a creature more of instinct, and instinct was super stoked about what was unfolding in that moment.