Bearclaw Valley A next Generation

Unlike Scarlett, the man did not have a heat to drive his actions. He had instincts, yes, but those were something he could fight against. Not very well, to be honest, but enough to keep him from taking her right then and thee without a care in the world. He was no yearling, not even close, but his inexperienced and lack of knowledge on the topic probably made him come off as one. Currently, he was more or less a confused child, unsure of what was correct and what was not. He knew what she meant when speaking about his man thing, though he was blind to the ways of how to proceed with it. Did he have to just mount her? Was there something he was missing? Forgetting? Being a gentleman, he could do. Serving the Brotherhood, he could do. But pleasing his lover? It was something that rested on a whole new level of foreign things. It was troubling him, making his rationality and clear thoughts wear thinner and thinner, until they remained only as a thread about to snap and fall away.

Kove's brow furrowed for a second as he looked at her body, hesitation clear in his eyes. All hesitation was shoved away once she raised her tail, however, giving him a view of what laid below. His eyes widened for a second before he averted his gaze, feeling as if staring was impolite. Now was not the time to be polite, but the Inuit dork was incapable of noticing that. When he turned back, she had already moved and started to nose at his underside. The feel of her breath alone was enough to bring his friend out of hiding. There was no stopping the inevitable, he knew, so he slowly moved around to carefully mount her. “What if I mess up? Or miss?” the man questioned, second guessing himself. “Will you still love me if I'm no good at this?” It was probably too late to worry now, given the fact that he held his forelimbs atop her frame already, but the questions were very serious to him.