Phoenix Maplewood if everything is honey, & i am what i eat...

Aure couldn't help but shy away as he crowded in, her skull only edging a fraction from his jowls before he set about with his ministrations. It was more out of proclivity than anything; that weak, whimpering instinct in her that wanted to neither flee or stay. The sense of it increased incrementally as the unnamed male tended to her — so lost in her own timidity was she that, by the time their gazes finally met, she'd forgotten there was another side to her that needed cleaning.

Ever a she-wolf to never be at attention, the pallid she-wolf consented with a sheepish blink. Then, she hurriedly made to cast her head the other way; but instead bonked the still-slathered side of her snout against his own. "C-cer iertare..." only a mute hiccup, flushed and all, left her and she promptly clamped her gaping mouth shut. With the weak excuse of an apology given, she resumed to present the rest of her syrup-ridden self to him.