Blackfeather Woods and when she looked, what could i ail?

he became emboldened, seeking the sensitive places along her body, places that had not been touched before
there was a boy, insisted her mind, though relmyna had never understood the true nature of the whisper.
perhaps three lovers, then, in all her life, gone too long and growing bitter at its end. only iliksis had ever stoked her to greater heights, and now —
relmyna found herself suddenly frightened of what wintersbane might do. he would not hurt her, no, but could she bear the true unfurling of flesh? his desire, burning though the tight bindings of her own? she supposed she must merely trust him, allow him to lead, for already beneath her pale fur had her heart begun to race, her skin tighten with a thrumming warmth.
purling a low growl, she urged him onward. in times past, as she did with iliksis, the listener might have paused their liasion in pursuit of a more veiled place, but now it mattered not. let them look; let them see. she did not care, and presently snaked her muzzle 'round to nip roughly at his cheek, a loving show of her own want.