Sleepy Fox Hollow Gave up on it, but honey, you got my hopes up

Wylla hardly noticed when Mahler hitched his pelvis and tied the two of them together, even when her stomach tightened at the sound of his voice thickening with his own pleasure. She was riding the lapping waves of a feeling she never knew existed, basking in a warm effervescence she'd never before experienced, and was far removed from the worries of before. She couldn't recall ever feeling so content. She couldn't recall ever feeling so loved, nor feeling so strongly the desire to reciprocate it.

This all would have terrified her ordinarily, if she was in her right mind. Instead, she was wrapped in the giddy glee of having Mahler all to herself for just this moment, unwilling to confront the fact that this changed nothing. This would all end in tragedy and she chose to close her eyes and ears to that reality so she could bathe in the here and now. Her legs trembled with the force of standing; Wylla soon sought to guide the two of them to the floor where they might lie until nature took its course.

In the meantime, ignoring the discomfort in her backside with every movement, she sought to tuck herself uncharacteristically close to the General. She craved his attention and proximity now more than ever, and not only because of her body's seasonal demands. She found his warm hide with her slender chin and pressed her muzzle against his body, murmuring an ever-so-quiet, you're amazing.