Herbalists' Cache I can't stop for long to study you

when she saw that big lean figure pass trough the trees, diesel thought she couldn't be that lucky.

but it was her! 

... what was her name, again? 

scumeyes, the bitch picked at random. those peepers were very much a part of her womanly appeal, packaged in a she-handsome face.

after performing the canine equivalent of licking one's fingers to slick one's mullet back, diesel swaggered after scumeyes, at a distance.

once the ladygirl seemed to settle down to dig around some bushes, the mastiff came closer, without bothering to announce herself. she crossed her paws at the wrists and leaned against a treetrunk, looking as if all that digging and uprooting was the most pleasing sight to watch in the world.

at one point a string of drool extended past her chest, and diesel slurped it in.

loudly.