Wheeling Gull Isle nemiyon

Her mood was infectious, no doubt because of the heady pheromones swirling around them both. But seeing Heda happy always made him feel glad, no matter what she smelled like. Caracal’s eyes danced as he watched her spin. A loud puff of laughter escaped him.

Today I learned sunshine smells fantastic, he said, giving in for a moment and drawing her fragrance deep into his lungs.

His heart skipped a beat—possibly even several—at Heda’s next words. Caracal gazed at her, expression guileless. He knew the hormones were likely the catalyst for this moment, though it wasn’t as if it was a hasty or impulsive decision otherwise. They had been cruising toward this destination all along.

In response to her exclamatory proposal, he sprang at her, wrapping his forelegs around her and then kissing every part of her he could reach: her forehead, the corners of her eyes, her cheekbones, her jaw, her neck.

Yeah, he exhaled into the curve of her neck, then chuckled and rocked her, crooning, You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear… He drew back to peck her on the tip of her nose. How much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away…