The mead permeates through her giving her a weightless feeling, easing the tension in her muscles. As she lays her head backwards her eyes adjust and she can make out the outlines in the tent, back lit from a blazing camp fire that casts its shadowy light through the canvas. Coral can hear the soft thumping of Quell's hooves as he moves about on his side of the partition. She wonders what he is doing, her thoughts soon drawn to the night before; she remembers the feeling of his soft, fur covered muscled back rippling between her thighs, the aching she felt when she pressed her chest against him, the...