Otter Creek You would have to be half mad to dream me up

It was remarkable the way Arielle's teeth against his throat made his pulse race not with fear or distrust, but excitement. Fingers of warmth spread from their point of contact, clawing through his blood and reducing the icy water to an afterthought. It seemed to part around them, leaving his skin warm where it flowed by, and his teeth no longer chattered, but eagerly sought more of her dark fur.

Aventus was not entirely ignorant to what he was feeling, and wondered if Arielle felt the same thrill or merely the comfort of grooming. He couldn't tell if the sensation in his stomach was hunger or lust; he was familiar with the latter after Ramesses presented the fellahin to him, but this was different. It stirred him in ways better felt by his soul than his body, though the latter felt it too. He came alive at her touch.

But Aventus did not want to be improper, so he allowed himself only a few moments more to indulge, then pulled reluctantly away. Every fiber of him protested and urged him to sweep her into his arms, but he thought it must be the aftermath of time in Akashingo. It felt wrong to even think of Arielle that way. She was a noble Ursus wolf, not some plaything like the pharaoh's coyotes. There was want in him, but utmost respect, as well.

We will take more time to travel, he agreed breathlessly, cursing the hoarseness of his voice then. He did his best to appear normal and unshaken, but a bright and hungry light danced in his eyes and his chest rose and fell harder when he sought her face. Beneath his black fur, his ears and cheeks blazed.