Larksong Grotto You're sweet, my dear

a moment of play; a rush, his muscled shoulders carrying him past her. mireille drew up in time to see his jaws welter with snow.
food. and some primal part of her brain was sated by this, some new sense of probing knowingness that had inspected each male thus far. she ate with gusto and savored each morsel, preening her fur thereafter before her green stare reached for the man in quiet again.