Duck Lake dife a ap kontinye

her jaws parted to let the etch of his tongue be known against hers. she was filled with the sense of him, his restrained power, his knowingness. her pelt was smudged with their scent, a darkweave veil that draped over her, permeated by the cinnamon hiss of her season.
mireille raised a paw, played along his shoulder with her claws. "away."
the word arrived in a glitter of teeth and darkening eyes; the seawolf imagined, allowed herself the image of seeking him again, once she had turned her course for home.
in these feral places, some part of her would remain.
mireille coiled closer, salvaging warmth in the knowledge she would not have to drive this man away. when they stood it would be the end.
and so she did not yet stand.