ooc:
Disturbed from her comfortable bed, the woman released a very unbecoming groan of protest as her once warm body was forced into the chilly air… then back down against warmth again. Couldn’t it have just been simpler for him to lay down with her instead of these theatrics? However, she was certainly not about to complain… not with a pelt of handsome fur as her bedding and an internal supply of pleasant heat seeping through their joined fur to keep off the cold.
She dreaded knowing the time of day and compliantly whined pitifully at the complete loss of the morning. She knew better than to waste precious time and resource like this. If they were in Ichika, she would have been up well before the sun to complete her rounds. This extensive bout of laziness was inexcusable. But it was so warm here in bed, she mentally protested, curling against the broad physique of her mate while aimlessly reaching around for a pelt to blanket them. Could she really be looked down on for trying to steal away these rare and loving moments experienced with her mate? If it was some other understanding body than herself then perhaps not. Unfortunately the Nomad was ruled by a rational mind to a fault which often (and at times like these) drove her mad. As much as she wanted to, she could not sleep the day away when she and the male beneath her represented the strong front of their pack. How would it look if the pair just remained as they were, lazy and content, sleeping the day away?
With a muzzle encompassed by fur the she-wolf growled, attempting to force her head up with great reluctance. It did not help that her beloved was favoring her ear, inciting a chill to run the length of her spine in pleasure. Aimlessly, she attempted to bat his tender muzzle away but pawed only at air. “Please no…” she pouted, forcing her head to rise as well as her sluggish front. A cascade of red tresses and still woven feathers came spilling down her shoulders and over her eyes placing an unearthly tinge upon her visible world and staining the hues of grey of her mate’s chest. Her posture was anything but poised, haphazardly slumped over as she attempted to keep herself upright by effort of her own defiant spine. It too wanted to be lazy and lay down flat and rest after all the curving and writhing it was forced to endure.
X’yrin hadn’t even remembered speaking until she forced her delicately hanging maw closed with an audible snap, just to reopen it again. “Don’t do that…” she whined with voice still laden with fatigue. “If you start that again, then we will never leave this tent and nothing will be sold today.” An ear perked up attentively. “Or worse…” At the thought of the shop, she was reminded of the large shire hopefully still tethered to the cart. “No one will watch Charlemagne… and he might get loose.” With the female horses being paraded around for show and sell, it would have been a disaster of a burden beast of that size got loose and had his way around the festival…