Redtail Rise [m] Sīkärr

His rasp is a primal siege within her own blood, beating hotly against the laboring gales. The feel of him near her tail spurs the huntress into a run, making a game of winding through trees, the thrill of play delaying what she truly craved. Eventually Ayovi slows, coursing back within reach to push her muzzle into the gritty fur of his neck; letting him fill her lungs, heating her veins.
She wondered at his desire. Even in this new, fuller condition, Skorpa wanted her.
Ayovi never felt more beautiful.
She pushes the fur aside to nuzzle along his cheek— right where an old scar tugs through brackish skin. A lap there, a trace down to his shoulders, to inside elbows, to hardening flank, then the woman is spinning, positioning her spine against the wide span of Skorpa’s chest, tail lifting to flaunt the roused point of herself which would please them both.