The eyes of Momiji Inubashiri have the capacity to discern any intruder from as far as a thousand ri. Inubashiri's impressive vision is nothing less than an asset to the tengu village. Truly, she is the most vigilant, the most dutiful, the most capable of any guard in the white wolf tengu squadron.

And yet the eyes of Inubashiri search the lands devotedly not for potential intruders but for a specific individual. Her back is turned to the entrance of the mountain; her front faces the tengu village.

The air is calm, the sun is setting, and Momiji is frantically pacing back and forth at her guard post.

Many say that patience is a virtue. Momiji thinks little of such verbiage. Patience is wonderful. If only she had some. How eagerly did she wait for the time to tick by so she could return to her quarters. Her desire did little to pass the time. And how slow it passes.

The village had no reason to be guarded. The tengu are more than capable of defending themselves against any real threat. Even so, they could also depend on the shrine maiden. Guarding the village is an archaic motion. Still, tradition is tradition, no matter how unnecessary it is. Even if it means that Momiji cannot return to the comforts of her home at a reasonable time.

So Momiji waits, counting every passing second. She waits for the sun to wane, sinking into the depths of the horizon. She waits for the dusk to arrive with its cool breeze and along with it the sounds of the night. She waits for the next guard to take her post. She waits and waits until she can wait no more.

And lo, Her time is done.

Then with speed in likeness to Shameimaru, Momiji disappears from her wretched guard post and charges straight to her housing. She barrels through the door and slams it shut, deftly locking it with a flick of the wrist.

A man, awaiting her arrival, waves to the tengu gently. "Welcome home."

Momiji, already half disrobed, pushes him to the bedroom. The two wrestle on the mattress, the man desperately attempting to wriggle out of the tengu's grasp but to no avail.

"Um..." He nervously laughs, his partner pinning him to the bed with her knees. "Do you need something, Momiji?"

She contemplates the man's statement, musing over her own thoughts. "I need patience."

"... Do you need something from me?" he clarifies, still straddled by the tengu.

"My desires have yet to be satisfied." She glances coquettishly at the man. Hopping off of his chest, Momiji sits down on her knees, arms reaching towards her human. "For now, you can make do by hugging me."

His mind takes a moment to process the information. Then he smiles and complies, pulling her close to him.

Momiji, with her insatiable want, demands more. "Next, you are to kiss me." She levels her gaze with her partner's, gruffly waiting for her request to be fulfilled.

"Ever the demanding one," he replies, gently brushing aside a stray lock of Momiji's hair from her face. Chuckling, he kisses her forehead, her nose, and lastly her cheek. But he does not kiss her lips.

Momiji pulls her human close, frowning. "More," she orders, bumping foreheads.

He grins and gives her a peck, brushing against her lips just briefly.

The tengu scoots back, blushing furiously at the sudden contact. She considers retribution for his impudence but thinks better of it. "...More," she commands, resolving to be firm with her selfish demands.

So he indulges her, gratifying her request with another kiss, one that might have buckled Momiji's knees were she not already sitting down. He pulls away from Momiji, allowing her just enough time to breathe.

She forgets to.

Momiji, in earnest fervor, touches her lips with her left hand in a rather transparent attempt to mask her panting. She too knows this, chewing on her index finger in frustration. During this time, her partner eagerly coaxes her out of her already loosened top, flinging it away. The tengu waits in anticipation for what happens next.

othing happens. The man only stares, scouring her figure with his eyes.

"Well?" impatiently asks Momiji.

"Sorry," he apologizes, scratching his head. "I really enjoy looking at you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she replies crossly. Still, the tengu can't help but feel slightly pleased at his flippant praise.

He doesn't reply, instead faithfully caressing her breasts. Momiji insistently requests for more. The man lays a few kisses on her nape, which causes the tengu to shiver. She loosens her modest skirt but the sash catches her rear, snagging the skirt halfway. She struggles and wiggles her behind to free herself from her own trap. Momiji, scowling, finally unravels the tangled sash and lets the skirt drop to the covers of the sheets. Her partner stifles a snort. When Momiji glares, he does his utmost best to look solemn and appropriately lustful.

"Do you have anything to add?" she questions, voice laced with self-loathing.

Grinning, he nods. "You should be proud of your healthy figure."

Momiji glowers at the man in undisguised irritation. "Are you enjoying this?"

"Immensely," her partner serenely breathes. He undresses Momiji fully, discarding her undergarments with little care. Momiji, as annoyed as she may be, did not have the will to stop him from doing so.

He holds free rein over her body, touching her above and especially below, eliciting stifled whimpers of his beloved tengu. He pulls Momiji close to him with his free hand, exploring her body with the other. She squirms, twisting her legs closed in a vain attempt to steel herself from her own pleasures. His touch got to her; the white wolf falls back on the covers, unable to choose between biting her lips and remembering how to breathe.

Momiji, red-faced from her human's little session, grabs him and pulls him down with her. Initially surprised, the man blankly stares into Momiji's face. There comes a moment where he realizes the nature of her action, making him glance brusquely to the side in embarrassment.

But without demur, he takes her.

Momiji whines, surprised by the immediate contact of skin. Her face is completely flushed, looking towards her human with teary eyes. With an unexpectedly human force, the man grasps Momiji's shoulders and claims her. She, fully pressed to the sheets of the mattress, supports herself with twisted sheets and rogue pillows.

In this moment, Momiji forgets all about her selfish demands and lets out a moan, stifled purposefully with a nearby pillow. Her body rocks to the man's rhythm, shaking the bed with ease. Momiji gasps heavily, raising no protest to his steady motions. He brushes his hands against her naked flesh and runs them down her sides and waist. When he reaches her hips, he clutches them and pulls the tengu closer to push into her as much as he can.

Momiji responds by clawing at his back and voicing her bouts of pleasure. She tries to keep her breathing steady but is interrupted by her own gasps and cries. At this point, Momiji wistfully realizes that her successive climaxes will do little to solve the issue that is her shortness of breath. And she is one to climax both easily and repeatedly. The wolf does her best to hide it, but she is not one to hide it well. Her partner reaches over and kisses her behind the ears – Momiji indiscreetly cries out in a mix of embarrassment, surprise, and want.

The tengu realizes the end will come soon. Rocking her hips in conjunction with her partner's movements, Momiji doesn't bother stifling her feverish moans any more. Instead, she focuses on the exaggerated movements of her human. He quickens his pace and holds onto Momiji's thighs, refusing to let go.

She quivers, accepting his warmth gratefully. In the height of her pleasure, she suddenly remembers how to breathe. So she exhales, letting out more of a whimper than a sigh. And then she inhales, catching her breath.

Her partner's grip on her hips and thighs loosens and she breaks free, bashfully wiping away her drool. Too embarrassed to bask in the afterglow, the tengu retreats to the shower, running away from the scene. Her human chases her. The water is already on but he does not care about something so trivial. Hopping into the stall, he joins Momiji in the shower.

"...It's cramped," she complains.

"So it is." He wraps her arms around her waist, sighing contently. "Momiji?"

"Hmm?"

"I believe I love you."

Her gaze meets the ground, focusing on the descending water droplets splashing onto the floor. Again, she considers retribution in the form of a quick blow to the side of the head. But her retaliation would be uncalled for and unwarranted. Finally conceding to herself, she replies brusquely, "I lo... I appreciate your sentiment."