Duskfire Glacier [m] one human, one Made,

"Always." It would haunt her dreams in the weeks to come, a promise she wasn't sure either of them could keep. In her waking moments, when the abject loneliness of it all tore at her with the fierceness of losing her world all over again, the she-dog would pull that one velveteen word from the corner of her mind where she kept such precious things and allow it to wrap around her like a security blanket. Like nothing could hurt her with Rye's whisper against her skin.

If he melted, then she was disintegrating with him -- her joints finally losing the battle, her knees buckling beneath the weight of the need that had overtaken her senses. The Hotah was attentive but the dove could find no more words to form requests. 

She had none but the unspoken pleas she pressed against his skin with every caress of her muzzle and coaxing motion of her body as they folded together seamlessly: love me.