Bearclaw Valley i feel sorry for those who don't know the trick

merrick purred against the feral scent of her, the way it caught in the back of his throat and burned him to a thousand pieces. she had all of him, every part enviable and not. he too inspected each guard hair and proud hillock of shoulder beneath the featherblack coat.
all his; all hers; the both of them had broken bread and lain as one and shed blood together time and again. merrick could think of no bond that would be more tightly knit than their own, and he lay his muzzle over her shoulders for a brief lingering moment of near-complete peace.