--SLOW-DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM--

N/A · 03-17-2013, 06:21 PM

The man listened rather unimpressively at the rules and regulations that spilled from the Sol's lips. More of his attention - perhaps a bit too much - was focused on the many curves that accentuated her womanly figure. A smile flickered upon his lips as she would move ever so slightly from the labor of breathing, sending her sinew and muscle rippling over those curves and reminding him that she was indeed saying something he ought to pay attention to. A twinkle in those silver eyes remained there for the duration of her speech - which droned on longer than he would have liked it to. Still, it gave him an excuse to set his eyes on her, a purpose for them to remain there without wavering or diverting. Tail flopped against the earth when she was through, having filed away what bits and pieces he had picked up into his mind. He doubted they'd stay there for long, but he picked up the gist of her words. Don't screw up and I'll leave you the heck alone. It seemed simple enough.

The part about pups amused him greatly. Who knew how many children he had spawned over the years. Marvel had never been the monogamous type, and had certainly never seen fit to stick around long enough to see if a dame he'd bedded had become pregnant. It had truthfully never crossed his mind. He had no questions, but he did have concerns.. mostly that he had not slept with anyone in a week. That was bordering on a record for the man. The Sol was the ultimate target, her seductive oranges beneath him would certainly bring him the upmost ecstasy. But he supposed if she was not easily charmed that any of the other dames would suffice.. or perhaps even a rogue.

But another concern remained on his mind, one that directly tied into his desire to sleep with the Sol, her wounds. She needed treatment, and plenty of it. A sly grin crossed his face at the thought of drugging her and having his way. He certainly could, if he wanted to, but a drugged Sol wasn't the sort he was looking for - she was far too important to not remember sleeping with Marvel. And so, his mind would divert - if only temporarily - to the types of plants that might be nearby, and where he could get the essentials to tidy up her wounds. As the others began to disappear, Marvel offered her a knowing look - one that read he would return at once - and then slunk off into the pack land in search of herbs and remedies.

Thoughts of her bodice lingered in the forefront of his mind as he mindlessly paced, stopping every now and then to pick up an herb here and there. They were easy to find, as he'd chosen the rather common ones for a start. Had he seen her wounds sooner he could have gone for a more extensive approach, but it was past that time. The creme brute turned back to where he was sure she was waiting, arriving just as the male Frino was giving his leave. His slight innuendo did not go unnoticed by Marvel, and received a slight chuckle from vanilla lips. Still others were leaving and the numbers had dwindled significantly. Jaws hung agape, full of different herbs and remedies. Depositing them at her feet, he began to explain his procedure. I only wish I could have tended these earlier, as soon as they'd occurred, but I can still do some good now. Some of this may sting a bit, but I think you can handle it. A wink was given before his head dipped down to take the first of the two herbs he'd chosen. He chewed it much like gum and then placed it on each of her scars located on her chest, foreleg, and shoulder blades. Special attention was given to the thin scar on her muzzle, mostly because it meant his muzzle was very close to her own, and his tongue even got to meet her flesh for a moment as he applied the salve.

That will help keep the permanent scarring to a minimum. He dipped his head down again, this time just gesturing to the second herb with his muzzle before looking back up again. Chew these leaves slowly, they will help with any aching or soreness you may have. Well, any ache that is injury-related. A sly grin emerged on his face, wondering briefly if she'd catch his little innuendo. Of course he was aching desperately, aching for the pleasure of a woman - of her, more specifically. He only wondered if she ached as well. After giving her a moment to catch his jest - if she did catch it - the man spoke up again. A little physical activity never hurts either, if you're facing any stiffness. Oh, he was laying it on thick now.

Speech,

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