Whitebark Stream put your ring back on honey-tits, you haven't had enough porridge this morning (mtr.)

The more pressure that is rid of her thin shoulders, the more her tail hitches to and fro from between her hocks; at the prospect of sunlight and, now, seeing apărător once more. The mauve of him is pressed against the ivory of her, and the strain of musculature along her made her quiver; but she obeyed that command all the same. Please, please hurry up- pleasepleaseplease— And once there was enough wriggle room, she wrenched herself from the frost, squeaking with a hiccup of relief—

If there was one thing that Aure was seasoned in and had no shortage of, it was unending affection, in the form of nuzzling and kisses.

With a pirouette into Wintersbane, intent on crowding against him and cuddling him into a snowy tomb and inciting a slurring of "Apărător apărător apărător apărător apărător!
Cum pot să vă mulțumesc vreodată? N-am crezut niciodată că te voi vedea din nou!" while entirely forgetting herself, any arousal there'd been, and resolutely kneading the crown of her head into the silver of his throat, his jaw, his snout. Her tail was an untamed flurry behind her.

All the same, the dove pecked his cheeks and temples with incessant kisses of abysmal gratitude, the ridiculous tears from before warbling in her argent eyes. But then she delievered a quick, nipping kiss to his temple, and withdrew to pout up at him, doing her best to return to regality. "Și nu sunt o prințesă! Or a distressed damsel!" But her absolutely non-threatening fury quickly melted as she crescented back into him, smiling without constraint.