ooc:
Thought was for the fortunate, for those that could find sense among the ravenous emotions that swallowed them whole when lost within an enamored bliss. How unlucky she was to only have a single thought in mind when rationale was better called for before these loving steps led down a path there was no turning from. Yet she would call herself blessed for this moment when true pleasure was found not in carnal desire, but in a sweet, serene touch that portrayed so much more. How lucky was she to feel like this again, lost within a beloved’s arms feeling his heart beat in time with her own. How she longed for this… how she desired this. And though she longed to feel this way again, it was far more profound than how it had been before.
Each lick, each kiss tore away at the walls of her reserve til they crumbled entirely and left her victim to the realizations once shrouded in ignorance. With each kiss she came to understand how many more she wished to have like it, and how she wanted to be bathed wholly in his scent. When they had hardly known each other, she had called her stalking of him then within the Wentworth her obsession, the enthrallment of one warrior to another. But with each kiss, she came to understand that her want to follow in his steps, to watch him, to be with him was not at all an obsession… but a bond that had formed. From when she sprung from the dew laden grasses and tackled him to the ground, she had been bound eternally to him. And his absence; though she could not openly weep for the loss of her friend, how her heart ached to see him again in the darkest hours of night. She feared the recall of his name on the lips of her mate, that her eyes might glaze in memory and her heart would grow heavy and she who wore her emotions for the world to see would expose how much pain his absence caused her. Though she had loved her mate and gave her all to him, a part of her heart had been taken that night of her beloved friend’s leave… and now she felt it had been brought back to her.
And here with him, she felt whole again.
Softly, she whined how much she had missed him, and sang happily in having him there in her arms. Then her octaves fell, weighed by uncertainty as she reluctantly pulled from his embrace to peer into his eyes. And carefully her paw came to rest beneath his jaw whilst the other in a fit of trembles came to rest against his chest. Beneath her calloused pad she could feel the ferocious pounding of his chest until eventually he calmed and the taxed muscle was able to find its measured rhythm. And upon her lips was a smile so weak and frightful but there none the less as her lengthened bangs dared to obscure it. She wished to speak, to ask if the beating thing beneath her paw was for her and her alone. If she was the cause of its staccato beats… if she was the one to make him breathe like this. She opened her mouth to utter a word then felt it fall closed of its own accord. She needn’t try again to know the result would be the same; her instinct compelling her mouth to close and follow the way of her forebears and let her actions, her expressions, her emotions speak for her.
Still with their bodies adjoined yet to share a single soul, she leaned into him and slipped her muzzle along his own. Again, her voice was soft and searching as the paw on his chest pressed firmly for attention. Her question hung quietly in the air waiting… hoping to be answered.