Bearclaw Valley Friday Night I Crashed Your Party

"excellent," ancelin rumbled in surety, wanting to throw out all talk of his aunt and her kids and the rise; he filled his senses with ameline and nipped first playfully at her shoulders, then a bit more insistently.
all this discussion of a future reminded him of the portion it took to get there, something on the horizon of both their lives. he could sense it even if he could not name it, and now trembled with an answering desire that brought his mouth close in a whisper; "gonna have to be quiet."
and then ancelin would urge her into the trees, to christen the long and sacred shadows that might be his by blood but already belonged to them by deed.