Swiftcurrent Creek ahorita

arric's voice was a balm to her ears; silvertongue smirked and kissed through the dark furring of his chest. "yes." a murmur as she came alive, leapt into her own flame. this, for her, was a type of love, a kind of bonding that she treasured with the blackpelted guardian of swiftcurrent, and now she made to back away, to lead arric off into the faewood trees where she might entertain him for a long while to come.