Duskfire Glacier [m] good taste is for people who can't afford sapphires

His rumbling growl wove into the spell, providing the harmony to Lane's desire and bolstering the overall affect. He drew in closer, circling, and Lane remained motionless in her crouch save a few small flicks of her tail. As his circle progressed around her shoulder and toward her rear, the fur on her scruff rose. The nip landed on her rump and she whirled, meeting the man nose-to-nose. 

Her own nose quivered, and she straightened up, perhaps enjoying a little too much the singular moment for which she had the alpha under her thumb. She performed a little hop to the side, to see if he would emulate her movement. She was the principal here, and she would lead the man in this pas de deax. 

Lane dashed into the woods, initiating a short chase, drawing the man toward a more private location. She expected him to match her every movement, launching into flight alongside her. He would be the pull to her push, and eventually--when she was winded, and convinced of the ardor of his pursuit-- she would grant him the prize he craved.