Nova Peak τ

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a roughened paw stroked the edge of one fineflower as ayovi's indigo eyes detailed him in undoing. skorpa hovered near the edge of their sleeping furs, tentative palm slid to cup her jawline, and for her forehead, a kiss more chaste than he felt.

was it wrong, he wondered, to lust after a woman who had only just been split by his teeth?

skorpa did not want ayovi to see the stricken remembrance upon his face, and the bearsword lowered himself down to gingerly encircle her with a brawned arm wishing for more gentility. he was not sure how to touch her now; he readjusted to keep his embrace from resting too heavily across her abdomen.

but the fine hairs at the back of her neck were now his to kiss; skorpa breathed the good living scent of her mingled with the fragrances of bouquet and felt something at last ease inside his chest. "jeg følte, at det var tid til et ritual i det kolde vand," skorpa rumbled in languorous vibration against ayovi's nape. "hvordan har du det, søde??"

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