Whitefish River Spring Fever

The confused young Malila fell silent, staring at him with soft eyes of blue and yellow. She latched onto every word he said. They didn't just go in one ear and out the other. Even through the grip of her heat, she absorbed their meaning. Their significance. 

He wasn't forcing her to do anything she didn't want. Or say something without meaning, just to use as a shortcut. He was being honest. Malila was moved when he confessed that he did not like the idea of being found by some other guy, in her state. A tiny smile grew. She didn't need him to love her, right this moment. This, as he was, was enough. 

And to top it all off... He still would stay by her. Oh, that feeling of euphoria she had experienced from the spores may have been disguised as something more after all. "Veran..." She broke her silence, her tongue feeling thick and dry. Malila melted in front of him, eyes wet but not sad. She leapt then, pushing her chest against his while her slender legs encircled his shoulders. "I-I don't want to find anyone else. Not after what you said." Her voice was muffled, with her muzzle pressed deep into his fur, where she couldn't help but place gentle love bites of affection at the side of his neck.