Lost Creek Hollow inflexus

Another time.

Crowfeather nodded softly. He had no intention of pushing the man.

Germanicus’ kiss left him stunned, electric with tingling he had never felt. The shadow’s stomach flipped wickedly inside him. The feeling of a dozen winged eagles fighting to break free, flapping and scratching, beating their way up his esophagus and flying from his mouth. The dark figure did not breathe. He did not think of anything. The warmth of his body was like that of a hot spring.

The three-legged figure could not help but look at him. Hurried breaths fell from his lips as he lingered near the man’s throat, breathing in the changes of his scent. Crowfeather touched him there, soft and wanting. His whiskers shook as shivers overcame his lean figure.

Let’s get some food, he whispered.