Short Shorts

by Coranth

213. She Is Here.

She is here again.

As always, she comes when the hour is most dark, the Weyrmind pings me so I know it's let her in.

From where I lay in Quarters, I hear the faint sound of the Transport Rings as she is materialized from below.

Then, I barely hear the softened sound of her hooves upon the carpet as she makes her way to the sleeping quarters where I lay, drifting in and out of sleep.

The Hoof Lamp she carries - a simple pot of Hay Fry fat with a wick - provides barely enough light, but this is by design; she can see well enough with it, but others would not have been able to see her as she made her way here, exactly as she wanted.

Extinguishing the Lamp, she sets it on my Night Table, then looses a soft, adorable, foal-like nicker.

Shifting to the other side of the bed, I pull back the duvet; then with a little hop and flap of her wings, she alights on my bed and settles down beside me.

Together, we "meet in the middle"; we cuddle, she and I; her soft fur and feathers press against my human skin, and as I pull the duvet over us both, she tucks her head down beneath my chin.

Shamelessly I indulge, I pet her all over; she snorts, nickers, traps my hand when I stroke over her belly and even her little teats, a silent command for me to keep petting as she lick-lick-licks the sweat from me.

A dreamlike session of petting, soft kisses, giggles, the sharing of breath...

In a moment, she turns about, stretches, moulds herself to me, her winged back to my chest and belly, her head tucked tight beneath my chin; my hand over her body and against her barrel; my nose buried in her mane, her tail flopped over my leg.

Together, we sleep.