Honeyed Pasture [m] Moonflower

She was no longer alone. Downstream at the opposite bank, there was a dark imperfection in the reflection of the water. It was as if she had almost looked through a mirror.

Drawing her head up, water droplets clung to the whiskers on her chin like scattered, miniature stars. He was pleasing to the eye. Soot furred, accented in bands of silver. Could he fulfill her desires? There was only one way to see if he may be deemed worthy.

Tail held loftily above her spine to flaunt her confidence and her swirling hormonal appetite, she crossed the waterway to meet him. Coming on solid ground, her approach was forward and bold. She offered no words. Only a deep intensity in the blue of her eyes. She would take his scent, scrutinize him intimately.