Hideaway Strath [m] no shortage of sordid, no protest from me

She'd expected the Daykeeper to grab her, either with his forepaws or by taking hold of her scruff, but was pleasantly surprised when he did not. She practically melted beneath him, pliant and finally allowing her eyes to drift shut in relaxed bliss beneath the feather's brush of her mate's touch. She was beyond words by now, though she drank in his -- turning her face to Vein to swallow his murmurs with whispering adoration.

-- fade -- 

Afterwards, the prickling burn beneath her skin had abated though not completely. It would linger for some days, the midwife knew. But for now the inferno in her veins had dwindled to the coals of a banked fire, her energy depleted for the moment as she shifted onto her side on the ground -- moving carefully. She snuggled into her mate's embrace, brushing her muzzle idly over one of his ivory forelegs as she caught her breath. 

A lazy, overjoyed smile found its way to her lips as her moonstone gems moved down to the flat expanse of her underbelly -- where the wolfdog still retained a small fold of fat from her first pregnancy. Even now, there might be pups forming in there -- their pups -- a thought that filled her with a warm swell of emotion. She couldn't help it; she twisted towards Vein and nuzzled at his jaw, his ruff, his ears. Wherever she could reach to slather him with kisses.