Whitefish River Spring Fever

she said she didn't want to.

briefly he thought perhaps he misheard her. perhaps she didn't want to right now or just yet. perhaps she didn't want to, she needed to.

but no. no, nothing of the sort. instead she plunged into his fur and he found himself once more awfully close to her. his heart practically hammered against her own. her bites along the side of his neck were not sinister or meant to drive him off.

malila... he hummed softly, teeth combing the fur of her neck.

they didn't need to do more than this, he decided, if neither one of them were ready for consequences. but for now he would merely read her body language, peppering her in timid affections.