Sun Mote Copse but you're holding me like water in your hands

"shouldn't yew be th'one t'eat it?" colt grunted warmly, though he did not move to take wren's offering. the meat was for her consumption. brash and crude he might be, briggs understood if she was to grow fat with pups from all this, her body would be ravenous day in and out.
"matter fact," the cowboy grinned, gathering himself to his paws and winking before he slid into a stretch, "why don't yew let me do the huntin' while we're hemmed up?"
taking something from her meant more than colt wanted it to be. but a man hunting for his brief bedfellow was a gender role briggs understood. "eat," he smirked lazily, eyes open with his desire as her scent continued to buffet the air around them both.
wren suited him fine. if —