redemption's here at last

The den that he'd painstakingly carved from the earth had been one hell of an undertaking, but it felt more like home than anything he could remember. Returning to a warm earthen abode when his hunts were over, curling up alongside his partner. The man he'd chosen to love. A man he ought to marry soon, before the sun finally set on his arduous lifespan. These were thoughts he rolled back and forth from one end of his mind to another throughout his days, but they were thoughts that often found themselves front and centre whenever he did return home.

And there it was again, that word. Home. Was this home? It was still such a close tie to his years of indentured servitude, an offshoot of captivity at best. Yet.. perhaps he could make peace with that, for Mojito.

The two had curled up together in bed many hours prior, as the moon was making its ascent into the inky sky. Throughout the night they'd rolled and shuffled until they were only loosely tied, a haphazard entanglement of slender limbs reaching across a short expanse of furs so that paws might caress ribs, that an errant sigh could tousle the fur of a cheek. Peaceful, content. The best sleep Nao had gotten in years, truth be told. Mornings were something he had always embraced with quiet solemnity, but now his mornings were bright, welcoming. He awoke to the sight of his beloved, with the silky strands of his cheek fur rumpled with sleep, and a bleariness in his eyes that took a few moments to clear. And then he would sometimes make the man tea. A warm drink to start the day. All too important in the winter, whose mornings were decidedly brisk despite the closeness of the warm Eastern sea.

It was as the moon made its gradual descent from the apex of its climb that the dark furred man felt a subtle tickle against his belly. It took several moments for the sensation to pull him from slumber, a persistent wriggling against his stomach. A husky, sleep-addled groan escaped him.

"Mo," he mumbled, the thought interrupted by a yawn that split his maw and stole his train of thought for a moment. "you need not wake me beforehand if you wanted to f-" the wraith's gaze landed upon tresses of pale fur, the points of short horns. Those endearing ears that were, quite notably, facing away from him. All of Mojito was, indeed, sound asleep with his back facing Nao. Which begged the question...

It was a shrill, demanding squeak that finally drew his attention to the wriggling masses nestled between the two males. In the dark, they might have been a half dozen angry rats, determined to chew a thousand holes in their supplicant, unconscious flesh. But the unmistakable, soft scent of milk and newness and puppies flooded his nostrils right away. In another world, there might have been a lamp to hurriedly flick to life to reveal the little beasts that had appeared in his bed. Instead, he had to rely on the meagre trickling of moonlight that came through the entry to the den at this hour. Six little bodies, rolling and pushing and wiggling their way across the furs of his bed so that they might find comfort against his breast.

"Mojito?" he used his beloved's full name this time. This situation seemed to warrant it. He cleared his throat, panic was beginning to tighten the muscles around his larynx. "Mojito?!" this time he knew he was quite loud, the way his own voice rang in his ears and the rotund little bodies between them jumped and began to whimper all at once. "Mojito, how did these get in our bed?!" at some point, Nao had gotten part of the way up, resting some of his weight against his elbow, and straightening his other foreleg as though he were going to push himself away from the incredibly slow progress of the little army of puppies.

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