Wheeling Gull Isle by the sea

Heda rose up too and their legs quickly tangled, hers snaking around Caracal’s slim red shoulder blades and tightening into a proper grip. Although she didn’t quite tug him, he listed forward, allowing gravity and velocity to do their jobs and sending the pair of them tumbling like a scene straight out of The Lion King.

Together, they rolled down the wintergreen hillside, rolling over and over in an interlocked embrace. Caracal cackled and whooped, taking several hard knocks on the way down but enjoying the hell out of himself anyway. Fortunately, they made it to the bottom of the hill intact, coming to rest with a great thwump.

And just like a character in an animated film, he began to slowly sit up, eyes squeezed shut but mouth open wide in a breathless laugh.

I power-played in the name of Disney scenery and I’M NOT SORRY.