Kintla Flatlands [m] so please don't take me for no fool

As amazing as the feeling is, the aftermath crashes down on him in an equally terrible measure. The pleasure fades, and Zephyr is left with a roiling stomach and a cold, creeping sense of dread, like warm blankets being ripped away on a dreadfully chilly morning. That was wrong, a voice chimes from somewhere in his mind, and bile rises up his throat. He hardly feels himself flopping on the ground next to his mate, tear-filled gaze trained on the dirt as if his life depends on it. He feels the touch of Kratos's muzzle, though. The feeling grounds him. He closes his eyes, taking in a slow breath, and the tears recede. That was... really nice, but — Silver eyes flutter open, full of affection despite the sadness in them. Now that it's over, I feel... I don't know. I just want to lay with you. That would help.