Moonspear don't need caution, you're gonna find out; in this lifetime, only upsides now

Hydra laughed as he gave chase, a thrill running through her as he pursued. This was an ancient dance, and one they had done several times before this. A fire had spread that only he could extinguish, and there was little question of if she would allow him to now. Her impatience, her need for him, was such that Hydra did not flee from him for very long; she slowed so that she was within his reach now, turning to engage him with a flourish of her plume to again offer him the bouquet her season brought with it. 

The Ostrega sought to ignite him too; her fangs would seek to preen and nibble attentively upon anything in her reach before she, in a fashion not at all unlike a feline, sought to draw against his side, pausing near a hindquarter to rub her head against it—her tail waved left and right, knowing precisely where it was placed in relation to that snout of his. Feeling clever, she looked at him over her shoulder and rumbled. 

Where they stood was much too open, and so Hydra's tongue laved at his hindquarter for a moment before she encouraged him with a whine toward the secluded alcove in the forest ahead of them. Hydra made toward it with an impish grin, listening for his pursuit.