Swiftcurrent Creek stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run

This time, she finds comfort in his embrace, though it comes slowly. It takes several minutes for her breathing to calm, for the tears to slow, for the thickness in her throat to abate enough for speech — but by then, words have abandoned her entirely. Instead she finds herself shifting slightly, drawing her muzzle gently through his fur and tracing a tentative path to the sensitive skin just below his jaw. Fogged and jumbled as her mind is, the disgust and horror she might normally feel to find herself in such a position is glaringly absent; all she feels now is a near-uncontrollable need to be close. Blissfully oblivious for the moment, she preens and nibbles along his neck and jaw as long as he allows it, still trembling slightly in the aftermath of her break down.