Tongue
"Drimol…"
He doesn't answer.
Considering our current situation, he doesn't seem to hear me at all, or he just chooses not to speak.
Wolf's teeth, he's absolutely everywhere! Everywhere…
"Drim…you hold me as if I will disappear, relax…" I run a hand through his mane, which seems to grab his attention. "I'm not going anywhere."
A throaty hum escapes his mouth, and after a while I can feel his claws retreating.
"I am sorry Branya…" he mumbles, and a small grin appears on his face. "I can't help it, you're so much fun."
I snicker, because I know what he means, by the spirits do I know. My blood is ice when I'm not with him, and it burns when we're together.
"You are quite enjoyable yourself, for a drunken kitten."
The look he gives me is serious then, and oh, I shouldn't press his buttons like that, but I can't resist.
"You should be careful what you say…"
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"But I love when you're angry."
"That's a very peculiar thing to 'love'…"
"I am Norn beloved, we love danger."
For a while we continue our banter, never breaking eye contact, and when he starts using his tongue, I swear I'm floating among the northern lights. My spine curls, my legs bend, my fingers desperately grab his horns.
I thank whoever made us meet, may it be the moot or the ghosthunting, at this point I don't care, for by the bear, I'm not sure I could find anyone else with a tongue like his. Long and raspy and-
His departure from my body interrupts my thoughts, but then he grabs my hair and enters and he's so warm and lean and I lose myself.
His neck is wonderful; I always bury my face in his neck. It's strong and thick and smells of salt and leather…it's no different this time, and when we go over the edge, I can't help but bite down as hard as I can.
Salt and leather…I almost want to go again, almost.