ooc:
It was later in the day when she was finally able to wake. She needn’t have the light filter through their tent to know it, but felt it by her internal clock, the compelling strain on her muscles to rise and greet the day though it was long past the morning. Rather than oblige the call of the day, she sank deeper into their bed of furs and lowered her ears flat against her skull to mute the sounds of activity just beyond the thin hide of the tent.
She was too exhausted to get up just yet. Even the thought of having to prepare the shops made her body ache, the muscles she would have to use protesting after last night’s (and this early morning’s) strenuous activity. Just a little more rest would be nice… perhaps another hour before she was made to wear the civil garb and attempt to trade off her wares. But try as she may to cling to the furs, she was inevitably forced to awaken by the gentle ministrations of delicate claws through her wild mane. The braid had unraveled itself during the night, dislodging her decorative feathers and scattering them along the floor and was left to tangle around her back and shoulders. It was a wonder only a few strands were ripped out rather than clumps of the mass at a time with the possessive hold her mate had had on her. Her head was still smarting… but not as much as other areas that need not be mentioned.
As he combed through her mane to wake her, she sluggishly reached up to take his busied hand missing several times before fur begot fur and his digits were awkwardly intertwined with her own. “Nooo…” she whined pitifully, buried her muzzle deeper into the furs. “Just a little longer... Isn’t it still morning?” She did not care if that was the case, she just wanted an excuse to linger a little longer in their bed. Surely he, who slept like the dead, would be able to understand…