And then my post smells like stinky cheese. :c +356
The coywolf had always enjoyed her space when she had it, mainly because she would have gone insane as a loner otherwise. She slept well by herself, and unexpected touches only ignited her natural fighter’s paranoia. All of this went out the window with Myrika, of course—Vesper could delight in the closeness of her body even when only parts of them were in contact. It made her want and feel wanted, and it was a sort of luxury she’d never thought she would have. She still had to wonder what it was like on the redhead’s end, though, running fingers through fur to find naked or raised streaks of scars. She was proud of each of her scars, and saw them as proof of strength in others, but it occurred to her that it might detract from her appearance, too. Luckily, it was obvious that Myrika didn’t care about that.
Vesper chuckled as the other attributed blame to her. “I can admit it,” she agreed smugly, lifting her chin and grinning. “My rugged good looks leave all the ladies speechless.”
The playful banter halted when it came to the matter of horses, and she could see the Aquila weighing her words carefully. Her concerns made sense, but Ves was quick to try to banish them. “No one can make me do what I don’t want,” she said seriously. “I’m not really asking to learn much; I just want to try to understand better, at first. I don’t think I’ll suddenly want to jump on a horse and ride it off into the sunset”—she grimaced—“but at least I might be able to help out.”
She grinned again, then, and gently pulled her hands out of the other’s grasp, only to run them up Myrika’s arms to her shoulders. “Besides, it’ll give us something to do together. If that doesn’t work, we can always switch to another plan. You know, in case this gets old,” she said, and kissed her again. Since they were no longer occupied with the necklace, her hands roamed more, exploring the muscles of her back, at last finding her hips.
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