Heron Lake Plateau as scarlet flowers lust for the dew of morning

I feel the same about your posts! :D

They continued like this, Romeo chasing his Juliet, for some moments before she felt a light nip land on her hindquarters. Her nerves were afire, and the spot where he touched her tingled and burned in the most wonderful way. She didn't keep running, but she didn't stop either. Rather, she spun in a sudden turn and, with a playful snarl, retaliated with a nip to his shoulder. Nothing serious, nothing painful -- only a sharp kiss to lure him closer, draw him further into the web she wove around them. She laughed and eyed him devilishly, backing away from him slowly and wordlessly inviting him to make the next move. It was a dance as old as time, choreographed by only the most primordial of instincts, yet there was beauty and necessity and undeniable joy in it.