Bearclaw Valley icewo[m]an

She was prepared as one could be, who thought they knew what to anticipate but really, they did not.

It was, to start with, uncomfortable... but it did not feel like an unwanted thing. In fact, as she got used to this feeling, Ikkalrok braced her weight and was able to adjust enough to, after a few seconds, find comfort in this. Ikkalrok knew then that this was what she had wanted all along, and as he filled that empty chasm the fire grew, and grew, and grew.

She was no stranger to roughness, and did not mind it; she responded to it as a woman in need would, answering with snarls that were by no means angry or irate or meant he was doing anything wrong. Ikkalrok only encouraged, pressing her hind flush and square against him so that he would continue. It felt much like a hunt even still, this, but the peak of it was something Ikkalrok had never experienced. Burning, more and more. The woman of ice was a roaring flame.