Lost Creek Hollow But this is exhausting, this love

Crowfeather smiled at her words.

The closeness of her had made his eyes heavy. The weight of his emotions had made his limbs weak with exhaustion, with questions, with wanting. The shadow did not feel as though he had substance. He thought the weight of the air in the den would crush him, flatter, flatter, until he had turned to nothingness.

There was a kiss at his throat. Silvertongue’s touch was familiar. The shadow felt himself shift as nervousness flooded his senses. The weight of near-sleep was lifted from his eyes.

She could not want this now…

Crowfeather’s spine drew stiff.