Dawnlark Plains the theory of everything

the mayfair-cairn was stilled as mona caught sight of him, feeling an overwhelming sense of anticipatory delight crowd him. the red dove strode towards him purposeful, her gaze ignited -- instinctively rannveig dropped his tense posture, and had he arms would have lowered them and pulled her close and tight.

with his head brushed against her fine features, he sighed. mona's voice broke their silence, i want -- but nothing further sounded from her slim muzzle. he pulled away (detesting the distance made of his own hand) and searched her gaze, brow furrowed -- and then a wave of her scent hit him, wakening in him an unfettered excitement.

he drew a long inhale to steady the nerves that clamored within him, and with the faintest twinge of a smile he jokingly queried: "wanted what? to see the ravishing mysterious young man you met on the beach?"