Larksong Grotto You're sweet, my dear

She was too young to understand, but he could not hold it against her. To act on impulse, to be a slave to one's own desires... this is what got wolves killed. She was ready, but did she really know what she was ready for?

She looked impatient, which was to be expected. This was about more than a free meal. The male stood to full height. He first looked to the ledge he dropped from to get into the grotto and then back to the freckled girl. The loner was not meek in his descent upon her, not waiting for permission. But instead of taking her haunches between his forelimbs, he aimed to cradle her. To slide against and press his flank next to hers, wanting to reach his head over her nape to lick at the wounds on her shoulder.