"No flirting."

"Flirting? Me?"

Bell-Bell smiled to herself, smoothing the front of her mate's dress uniform. "Mm ... no," she whispered again, giggling, "flirting. No eye-drinking, no ... "

"Eye-drinking?" Welly asked.

" ... no ‘otters are hotter' ... "

The skunk chuckled at that. "Alright ... alright, I promise!"

"Mm ... DO you?" The deer put her muzzle to his. "Mm?" Nosed him.

"I do," he whispered honestly, paws on her sides. "Mm ... when you're in a dress uniform, I just ... "

"Get all antsy? Get all ... yiffy?" she emphasized.

"Mm. No, I wanna take it off you. It hides your ... curves," he whispered.

Bell-Bell giggled, raising her muzzle a bit. "Mm." Another giggle. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Mm-hmm." A kiss to her cheek.

"You wanna take it off me, huh ... so, it DOES make you yiffy ... "

His kisses went to her lips. "If I think about it too much, hun, we're gonna end up in bed ... instead of the shuttle-bay."

Solstice was flying alongside (at impulse) Riparian, an all-otter ship (and also a vessel of the Furry Federation, like Solstice was). Riparian was of a different class than Solstice ... Skimmer-Class. Its hull was a deep blue, and the glow of its engines ... was akin to dappling water. The ship was a bit bigger, actually, than Solstice, and not as sleek, and had a crew compliment of 112 otters. But ... after Solstice had left the avian colony, they'd ended up SOMEWHAT near Riparian, and ...

... the captains of both vessels agreed to meet. To have dinner. And ... tomorrow, have lunch. And so on. And crew-furs were invited (at each Captain's permission, of course)!

After all, where was the harm?

And THIS far out ... in unexplored space ... it was always nice to see a friendly, furry face. Especially when they were part of the same fleet. Meeting up with another allied furry ship like that (especially a NON-predator ship) was like seeing a piece of home. If that made any sense.

"True," was Bell-Bell's eventual reply, to Welly's words. And she took a deep, satisfying breath, and pulled away a bit. "We best get going, then, huh?"

"Is that an order?"

"I DO outrank you," the doe teased. Herself a lieutenant-commander. The doctor ... was actually the SAME rank, but ... in the chain of command, the chief engineer came before the chief medical officer (though the doctor COULD, under regulations, relieve ANY-FUR of duty if he declared them medically unsound).

"Well, then ... I guess we're going to the shuttle-bay."

Bell-Bell giggled, going for the door. Pausing. She ran her hoof-like hands up and down the sides of her uniform, which was more stuffy and less comfortable than her regular uniform, but ... since this was a SPECIAL get-together, Advance had told his crew to "dress smartly." Which was a friendly way of saying, "you best wear your dress uniforms."

"Will you stop doing that?" Welly asked, standing.

"Doing what?" An innocent blink.

"Being so ... suggestive. And you say I'M a flirt!"

"I learn from the best," was the doe's cheeky response. Which was followed by a giggle. "Mm ... but, no, I just ... really don't like wearing these things." She frowned.

"This is the VERY first time we've had to wear them since Solstice was launched," the skunk reminded. "I think you can get through a single day of it. Besides ... you gotta think ahead, Bell-Bell."

"Think ahead?"

"To how good it's gonna feel when we ... take them off."

Another giggle. "Mm. Mm ... " She grabbed at him. And pulled him in for another kiss. And licked his lips a bit. And then her own. And sighed. "We REALLY need to get to the shuttle-bay."

"Mm-hmm." Kissing her back.

More kisses. More standing in front of the door but not moving.

Until Bell-Bell, panting lightly, broke it off, and ... opened the door. Smoothed her fur and her uniform, and looked back at the skunk. Giving a grin. And raising her tail a bit to ...

" ... no, no! Don't," the skunk said, "do it."

"Aw, come on ... heh ... "

"Bell-Bell ... " The skunk actually flushed hot beneath his fur. "Don't ... " If she flicker-flagged her white-tail at him ... it would trigger a mounting urge. And ... that wouldn't be so practical in their current attire, would it? And especially not in the corridor outside their quarters.

"I wouldn't do that in public, Welly. I'm just teasing you," she assured honestly. "And, besides, silly, it ONLY works on a male ... if the male already has an erection. Otherwise, think of the trouble my tail would cause! Heh ... no, you gotta have a full erection for the signal to work. It's ... " A pause. A grin. "You have one, don't you? That's why you freaked out!"

A flush. "Honey ... "

"Okay, okay," she relented. "Come on."

He followed her out into the corridor. The door to their quarters swished shut, and they began their walk to the shuttle-bay.

"Besides," she continued. "If I DID try and do that to you in public, and you DID have an erection ... you could always look AWAY ... if you saw I was positioning my tail, you know ... "

"Bell-Bell, honey ... you know how HARD it is to look AWAY from your backside? And to look away while ERECT? You know how hard that would be?"

"How hard?" she whispered, biting down on her smile.

"So hard," he answered silkily, "that I don't even try ... " He groped her rump.

A giggle, and her eyes darted, thinking they'd run into another crew-fur, who might see. But, anyway, so what? Mm ... so, she groped him back.

And they reached a lift. Entered.

Both of them giggling as the doors shut. And as they were whisked farther back in the ship. To the shuttle-bay.



"Advent." The Captain blinked.

"Captain," was her one-word counter.

"What are you ... " He tilted his head, getting a look at her. " ... doing here." The jaguar had just arrived in the shuttle-bay. Was wearing a dress uniform. Like she was ...

" ... going to the Riparian. I wish to join you."

"Well, uh ... I kinda didn't plan on you going," the desert mouse said diplomatically. "Anyway, thought you wouldn't feel up to ... "

"The doctor has given me a ‘clean bill of health' ... I am clear to travel."

Audrey (who more and more ... was always at Advance's side), said, "Aren't you, uh ... in heat?"

"What of it?" was the jaguar's squinting, accusing response.

"Well ... "

" ... ‘otters are hotter'," Welly supplied, entering with Bell-Bell (who giggled and gave him a playful shove ... for having said that).

"If you are implying," Advent said (to every-fur), "that I will not be able to control myself ... "

"Look, Advent, otters aren't ... predators."

"They're not entirely prey, either." Otters were, like porcupines and skunks, a borderline species. But, truth be told, most borderline species chose to associate with prey ... rather than the predators. So, they (most borderline species) were simply lumped into ‘prey' classification.

"I don't need any trouble. We haven't seen another furry ship in quite some time. I want this to go WELL," he emphasized, looking around. "When the Captain of the Riparian sends his logs back home ... I want the Council to read over them and see GOOD things mentioned about this crew. And this ship. Just a few months ago, we had a reputation of being ... unorganized. Unproductive. But I totally think that, lately, we've been coming together. I think ... we're making our own mark out here. We're doing our jobs." A breath. "I've gotten good messages from back home, from the Council ... from the prey members, anyway," he muttered, "about Solstice's status."

"I will not ... jeopardize," the jaguar insisted, "our public image." A pause. She shifted on her foot-paws. "I promise," she said quietly. She really seemed like she wanted to go.

Advance sighed. Looked to Audrey.

The squirrel shrugged.

The desert mouse's whiskers twitched. "Alright," he agreed. "You can come. But, please ... "

" ... I am an officer on this ship. Do you not trust me?" Advent demanded. "Almost ALL of your senior officers are accompanying you." The only major exception being Aria. The Sub-Commander was staying behind ... in charge of the ship. Plus, she'd requested to stay (because, with Solstice anchored in one spot for a day or so ... they'd have a lot of downtime, and she'd get to spend it with Ross).

Herkimer was already in the shuttle. With Ensign Tess.

"Do you," the jaguar asked again, a bit dangerously, "trust me?"

Advance wanted to NOT answer that. But he sort of had to. And said, "I ... do trust you, Advent. It's just ... "

"Maybe we should get the party rolling, huh?" Welly said, clasping his paws together. "Don't wanna be late for the big shindig!" They were all gonna eat with the senior staff of the Riparian. Including its Captain. Plus, they'd be staying in some of Riparian's guest quarters overnight. It was like a vacation! Kind of, anyway ...

"Okay ... okay," Advance said. "But, Advent, I already told Tess she could come. So ... we'll have, like, seven furs in the shuttle-pod."

"Can't we take two pods?" asked Bell-Bell.

"We'd just use up more resources that way," Advance said, whiskers twitching. "I mean, if we can squeeze seven into one pod ... might as well do it. Besides, it'll only take a few minutes to get over there."

"I'm claustrophobic," Bell-Bell said weakly.

"As am I," Advent added.

Advance sighed. Rodents didn't get claustrophobic. Mice and squirrels had a natural urge to ... burrow. Small, dim places made them feel particularly safe. It was in the open ... that they felt more anxious. But ... for the deer and jaguar ...

" ... alright," the desert mouse agreed. "TWO pods. Advent, you'll pilot one. Tess can pilot the other. Mm ... but, as long as we're bringing an extra pod, we might as well bring some extra furs."

"Opal!" Herkimer called from inside Shuttle-Pod One (where he'd obviously been eavesdropping with his keen, mousey ears).

"And Handel!" was Tess's injection.

Advance looked to Audrey, who was smiling, and who giggled and said, "I'll go call them."

And Welly (again) clapped his paws, grinning, saying, "Let's go, let's go! Into the pods! Into the pods!"



"Is there something wrong with your food?"

Herkimer looked up. Flushing. "Uh ... " His cheeks flushed beneath his fur, and his ears turned rosy-pink. "Mm ... " His nose had been hovering close above his plate. Constantly sniff-twitching, as if checking and re-checking what was on the plate. It wasn't that he didn't trust the otters. It wasn't that he was being rude. It was just that ...

" ... mouses thoroughly sniff ALL their food before consumption. Else, they won't eat it. It is a subconscious instinct." Advent's voice. Strangely coming to his rescue. "He means no offense."

"I see," said one of the otters. "I did not know that." He smiled at Herkimer, and nodded his head. "My apologizes. We rarely have contact with mice. I did not know ... "

Herkimer squeaked shyly. "Um ... no problem. Sorry about my sniffing. Yeah, it's ... I can't help it," he said. Echoing Advent's more poised explanation. (Which was, indeed, the truth.) And he swallowed, casting the jaguar a little glance. And ... he nodded his head very lightly at her.

She returned the nod. Though stoically (with no visible emotion attached to it). Maybe she hadn't said that ... out of kindness. Maybe she was just trying to be a know-it-all in front of the otters. Trying to impress them with her inter-species knowledge. After all, she WAS in heat (for six more days), and ... as much as she made the claim otherwise, Herkimer (like the others) half-believed she'd come here to bag an otter. After all, they would be staying here overnight, and not ALL otters adhered to the Christian faith of prey. So, she might have a chance, but ... or maybe Advent WAS being kind. But why would she ...

... " ... don't worry about it." Opal's voice. Directly on Herkimer's left. The Jersey cow whispering to him. "Please, just ... ignore her."

Herkimer swallowed, nodding. "Sorry." His whiskers twitched.

"Hey," Opal whispered, putting her hoof-like hand on his thigh (beneath the table). "Don't worry about."

He nodded weakly. It was awkward. Being at the same dinner table with two femmes. An ex-mate and ... his current mate. The ex-mate, Advent, who had hurt him so badly. Who was like a drug. An addiction. That, after having broken, he still couldn't get the ... smell and taste of her ... out of his memory. But was she all that bad? Or ... and Opal. The caring, loving soul who ... gave him true love. Gave him devotion. Both spiritual and physical love. It ... she was what he needed.

Two femmes.

And he loved Opal more. There was no doubt about that. He was loyal to her. But he would be lying if he said ... Advent hadn't seared a spot in his brain. And it was HOW she'd seared herself into his consciousness (with force and sly seduction) that made him hate himself for not being able to shake her. And he kept trying to forgive her. And he had! But ... he needed to know that she understood ...

The Jersey kept rubbing the mouse's thigh. Soothing him.

They both continued to eat.

"It's amazing to us," said an otter sitting across from the two of them, "how diverse the mate-ships are on your ship. How diverse your crew is. Coming from a crew of ALL otters, it's ... different," he said, "to see."

"It wasn't planned," Opal said warmly. "It just sort of ... happened. And, besides, all furs are equal. Even with our little quirks. And, in some ways, the quirks make each other ... more appealing." She'd never really wanted to be with a bull. She'd always been attracted to other species. Always gone for them. Like Herkimer. A mouse.

Herkimer tried to tune out everyone's words. He just wanted to eat. All these eyes! All these eyes on him! Everyone staring. The otters. Advent. Everyone.

The hoof-like hand still on his thigh. Giving a squeeze. Indicating for him to "calm down" ... and he was trying. He was trying!

His anxiety began to flare.

Opal's eyes darted. She had to get him out of here. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Which didn't surprise her. There were twenty-plus furs in this room. Sitting closely at this table. Conversing, eating. The mouse, as shy and timid as he was, and ... and ... with his still-fresh emotional traumas ...

Advance seemed to notice. Being a mouse, he understood. Though, being a desert mouse, he was a bit more ... emotionally rugged, perhaps, than Herkimer was. (After all, Advance was a mouse who had battled snakes for a drink of water.) And the crowd in the room didn't faze him so much. But it was definitely phasing Herkimer. And he gave Opal a subtle nod.

The cow said, "We have to use the bathroom ... " A lame line, perhaps. Maybe a bit suspicious. Maybe it would seem like they were leaving to have a quick yiff (as furs would do), but ... it was the only thing she could think of. And the otters (and her crew-furs) weren't about to contest her.

So, she scooted back in her chair.

Herkimer, by now, was doubly twitching. His eyes unable to stay in one place. Dart, dart, dart! He chittered, and ... she pulled his chair back, grabbed his paw, and led him out of the dining room. Into a corridor. Pulled him down the corridor, and ...

... he was shaking. Starting to cry. Body convulsing.

"Herkimer!" Opal pleaded, fear in her voice. She'd seen him have panic attacks before. Most mice were inflicted with them. But it scared her every time. She wished she could help him! Wished she could make it stop. And ... she held him. Wrapped him up in her arms. She, as a cow, was bigger than him. And ... she held him close. Whispering. Whispering. "Shh ... shh ... "

The mouse swallowed. "I ... I ... I'm s-sorry ... s-s-sorry," he stammered, coughing. Coughing for air.

She massaged his back. Patted his back. "It's okay, baby. Just breathe ... okay? Soft, slow breaths. Just ... breathe ... "

He sucked in air. A bit too fast. And coughed, tears matting and staining his cheeks. He let it out. Took a breath back in, and ...

... within a minute or two, he'd stabilized.

"Oh, Herkimer ... shh ... I'm here. It's okay. I'm ... "

" ... sorry," he kept muttering dejectedly. "I'm so sorry."

"No, baby ... hey ... it's okay." She looked him in the eyes. Which were a bit red. Still darting a bit. "What happened?" she asked. "What triggered the attack?"

"I ... I don't know. All that otter food. Has so many spices. I kept sniffing it, and ... they kept looking at me. And ... Advent joined our conversation. She was looking at me, too, and all those eyes, and ... the room seemed to choke me."

"I thought mice weren't afraid of small spaces ... "

"No, no ... it's ... I don't mean ... it didn't feel claustrophobic. It just ... felt like there was no AIR," he stressed. "I don't know." He sniffled. "I think I'm okay now."

"Honey, I don't wanna drag you back in there if ... "

" ... I'll be okay ... I'll ... "

"Well, let's wait a few minutes," she whispered.

The mouse nodded weakly. "This ... this wouldn't have happened on Solstice. It's just ... new environment, and all that spicy food, and the otters, and Advent, and ... "

"You don't have to explain," the Jersey insisted. Sighing. "Herkimer ... please. It's okay. Alright? I'm not mad."

A sniffle. And another weak nod. "I don't wanna embarrass you like that ... "

"I'm not embarrassed."

A sniffle. "They think we left to yiff."

A helpless giggle on the cow's part. "Mm ... probably," she said. "Yeah. I'm sure they do, but ... if they wanna think that, let them, okay? I bet they're jealous."

His ears went rosy-pink!

"After all ... it's not every-fur who gets a cute, bright mousey all to herself." Big hug!

Squeak!

And she smiled widely and sighed. Glad he was okay.



Back in the dining hall, the furs continued to eat. And converse.

"What's your engine efficiency?" Bell-Ball asked, cautiously chewing on a hot-root. A lot of tubers and roots in the otter diet. And a lot of water-plants. The otters actually ate fish, but it wasn't on the menu tonight. As none of the Solstice guests ate meat (aside from Advent, really).

The Riparian's chief engineer, his rudder-tail tapping on the floor behind him, leaned forward. "Not as good as yours," he said, with a smile. And a chuckle. His whiskers waggling jovially. "But! But ... good enough. Riparian is an older ship, but she's a good one. She can haul tail. Believe me."

"I don't doubt it," Bell-Bell said kindly. She liked otters. They were strong, simple furs. Easy to get along with. And ... she blinked. Looking to Welly, who was on her right. "What?" she asked, with a bit of a frown.

A coy shrug. A smile. "Who's the flirt?"

"What?"

The skunk, voice hushed, put on a quiet, mimicking tone of ... ‘oh, I don't doubt it,' making his voice swoon. And he giggled airily. And said, "That's what." His eyes sparked.

"What? You think I'm ... " Her voice went to a very light whisper. "You think I'M flirting?"

"Honey, it's alright. You're good at it." His paw caressed her thigh beneath the table. "Just sayin' ... what's good for the goose ... "

The doe giggled aloud. "That's ridiculous!"

A few otters blinked, looking to her.

"Um ... it's ... it's an in-joke," she explained, flushing, but still smiling. And, leaning to her mate, whispered into his ear, "Alright. Even if I AM flirting ... which I'm NOT! But even if I am, I won't do it. So long as you don't."

"I haven't been," he whispered back.

"Good. Neither have I."

"Good," he echoed.

A moment of quiet between them. Before she whispered, "And if you start calling me ‘goose,' I'm gonna start calling you ‘gander'."

"Ooh ... that's a bit kinky, don't you think ... "

Again, the deer giggled aloud. Again, drawing stares. "Welly," she hushed. Her own paw on HIS thigh, now, beneath the table.

"Do you think Herkimer and Opal left to, uh ... ‘be furs' ... "

"No ... I'm pretty sure he was having a panic attack," Bell-Bell replied. She'd seen the look exchanged between Advance and Opal.

"Aw ... poor guy," said Welly, whiskers twitching. "Mm." Herkimer was one of his best friends. But, then ... Herkimer was EVERY-FUR'S friend. He was a very cute, very likeable mouse. "Poor guy," the skunk said again. "I should've brought some rodent tranquilizers. You know, to calm him down."

"I'm sure Opal's taking care of him. He'll be okay."

Welly nodded. His paws back to himself.

And her hoof-like hands back to herself.

If they kept touching each other, they'd soon lose control!

The Riparian's chief engineer was chatting with someone else now ...

... and, further down the table, Advance was talking with the Captain of Riparian.

"You've a fine crew, Captain," the Riparian's Captain, Colt, said.

"Thank you." The desert mouse smiled. His ears swiveling. Picking up all the sounds of forks clattering on plates. Of drink glasses clinking. Of happy, furry voices. All conversing. "It's nice to see another ship of the fleet. Been a while."

"Same for us. Especially out here, it's ... lonely. A bit isolated, if you know what I mean. It's easy to think you're the only furry ship in the universe!"

Advance giggled. "True enough ... "

Captain Colt lowered his voice a bit. "It also makes running into trouble ... a bit more of a life-and-death circumstance." A pause. "Doesn't it?"

The desert mouse blinked. Sipping from his drink. Some kind of fruit juice. Some crew-furs were sipping from alcohol, but Advance deferred it. He needed a clear head.

"Rumor has it you've run into humans?"

Advance paused. "A few times ... why?"

"They're dangerous."

"I know," the mouse replied. With equal hush. With equal weight.

"Rumor also has it that ... a ship with a predator captain ... one of OUR own ships is ... interested in your encounters."

"Who?" A blink. "I don't ... "

"Well, it's just a rumor. We've just seen another furry ship on the very edge of our sensors a few times. Didn't get a fix on WHO it was, on ... what ship, but ... they seemed to be following your previous course." A little shrug. "I mean, it's an allied ship, so it didn't worry me, but ... thought you should know."

Advance's eyes darted. As he looked to the white, silky table-cloth. And all the food. Candles were spaced throughout the table, as well as flowers. And the desert mouse looked up. "We have seen the humans. They're ... planning something."

"Care to tell me what?" Colt asked.

"I don't wanna cause a panic."

The otter swallowed, shifting in his seat. "I see." A pause. "That bad, huh?"

"It's not BAD," Advance managed. "It's just ... enigmatic. We don't have much information, ourselves, honestly ... it's ... but we're equipped to stop them. We have the weapons. My crew is smart. When push comes to shove, we'll find a way to stop what they're planning, and ... hopefully, drive them back further into the uncharted territories. Or ... at the very least, put their plans on hold." A nervous pause. "It's just a matter of WHEN we next stumble across them, and how much time we have ... before they react to our interference in their ‘internal affairs'."

"Well ... " The otter picked up his glass. And held it out. "If you need help, we'll be around. We, too, are assigned to the uncharted regions. Though we're mainly surveying water planets and oceans ... " A smile. "Otters love water."

A giggle-squeak. "Understandable." The mouse held out his own glass, and clinked it with Colt's. "A toast. To friendly furs. And to the lovely ships that ferry them."

Colt nodded graciously, smiling. "I'll drink to that." And he took a swig of his drink. While Advance sipped juice.

"But," said Colt, clearing his throat, continuing, "I don't see us being more than a week away from you ... at any given time," the otter said. "Assuming we BOTH keep venturing further out. Hopping from world to world. Furry Command wishes us to stay within sensor range ... at all times. You're our ‘partner ship,' as it were, so ... "

"We'll stay in touch," Advance promised. "If we're ever gonna be moving out of range, I'll ... slow us down." Solstice had the more advanced sensor array. It could see ships and planets up to eight or nine days away (at maximum speed). Riparian's array could only see a week out.

"Good. I'd feel safer ... my ship doesn't have the teeth," the otter admitted, "that yours does. But we ARE a bit bigger, and ... we do have certain advantages. I'd bet on her any day."

"As I would bet on mine," Advance said, smiling.

"Good thing we're on the same side." A chuckle. Another swig of his drink. "Anyway, it's always nice ... to be with fellow furs."

Advance sighed warmly, looking about. And he nodded. "It really is," he whispered. So much life in this room! So much friendly, familiar life! It was very heartening.

"So, you're from the desert?"

Advance looked back to Colt. And nodded lightly. "Yes," he said, poking at his food with his fork. "I am."

"See, now ... I couldn't even imagine that! No water!"

Advance giggled. "It's, uh ... a harsh realm, that's for sure." A swallow. And he poked at his salad, and chew-chewed on a fork-ful. And swallowed. Sipped more water. "So, you wanna exchange habitat stories, I take it?"

"You tell me about the desert, and I'll tell you about the marshes."

"Fair enough." And a smile.

The crew-furs from both sides chatting, mingling, and eating.

It was almost like ... family. Of the furry variety!



Ross's head, at a tilt ...

... and hers, pressed to his. Muzzle-to-muzzle. Lips-to-lips.

In their quarters.

Aria had delegated command of the bridge to Lipton ... her fellow rabbit (though he was a regular rabbit, not a snow rabbit, of course). Had left instructions to call her if anything came up. For, right now, she was ... taking a taste-test. And another, and ... another ...

... tasting her meadow mouse until she was SURE he was ... just right.

The kiss finally broke with a little smack-smack sound. Both of them bare, and ... lying casually on their bed. In the cool, strewn sheets. And Ross sighing. "It's ... nice," he whispered, "to kiss. I love kissing ... "

Aria eye-smiled at him. Her mate. Her sensitive, caring, emotional mate. Her artistic mate. "I have yet to meet a fur ... who did not."

"I know." A flush. A little eye-dart. A smile. "I'm just saying, you know, it's ... easy to get swept away by all the other physical ... pleasures," he whispered, flushing more, ears turning rosy-pink. "That it's easy to rush over the kissing. I ... I just wanna kiss you all night."

"ALL night?"

"Maybe not ... all," he whispered, eyes helplessly darting to her soft, supple breasts. The snowy-white fur. He ... put his paw there, and ... cupped a breast. Just felt the weight of it. The warmth of it. Felt her heartbeat through ... all of it, and ... " ... but, uh ... " The vole swallowed. "Uh, I ... I wanna kiss for a bit."

Eye-smiling delightedly, Aria nodded her head. "I have no objections." And she leaned toward him, and ...

... his body next to hers. One of his legs slipping between hers.

Their foot-paws gently touching each other. Toes-to-toes. Foot-paws battling weakly ... tagging each other.

And lips, moist, ready ... sucking.

He sucked her lower lip. The moistness of it. The feel of her exhale. Her breath. Her panting. And he kissed her fully.

Her eyes went to a close. As did his, and ...

... she mouthed his muzzle. Sucked, and ... panted onto his cheek. And kissed his cheek. Letting him regain his breath before any lip-action was resumed.

The two mates, both of whom worried about the other ... constantly. She, the protector, and him ... the innocent. He'd never seen war. Not like she had. And ... she vowed to keep him from that. Keep him from all violence. All hatred. She would keep him safe. She loved him.

And he ... knew the darkness she had witnessed. Or knew SOME of it, and ... he understood her. He understood WHY her species was emotionally frozen. Why she didn't laugh. Why ... she kept herself so neutral and composed. It was a learned instinct, and ... he understood it. Why it was necessary. Understood that, were her barrier to melt, her suppressed Arctic emotions would be so violent ... they were frozen for her own protection. To keep her mind from being overwhelmed.

And she understood ... how vulnerable he was. Still learning how to be a fur. More a fur every day, but ... still learning. Still growing into his pelt.

They were both from different worlds. Both outcasts.

And both loved kissing.

Really, what more was there to say?

For the moment ... nothing. For their lips were otherwise occupied. Words? Words? No time for words!

They were engaged in a VERY important taste test!

And it could take ALL night to finish ...

Sucking ... little smack-smacks. Little breaths.

Tongues twirling and touching and slipping inside muzzle, and ... mm ...

Mm ...

Mm!