Sleepy Fox Hollow lächeln

Even if Wylla could hook her limbs sturdily around Mahler's neck, she was too unprepared for his counter to prevent what happened next. Her mind was buzzing, moving her focus away from the fight and her next move and placing it insistently on the crash of their breastbones together and the unwelcome knot of anticipation lingering in her stomach from the dream. This was supposed to help, damnit—!

Just like that, Mahler took advantage of her brief falter and swung his body, bringing her down with the weight of him. Suddenly she was on her back and he was over her, imperious and powerful, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest and she felt warm and unsure of herself. She tried to bring herself back into the simple pleasure of the spar and her terrible skill level by reaching for his belly with harmlessly kicking hind legs and turning her jaws to his nearest leg to gnaw on it, but her paws failed to kick and her teeth found his fur in something more akin to preening that she couldn't help in the heat of it.