Warning: Some (slightly fluffy) vore talk.
The snow let up about half an hour after they left the cave. Kalun drove her band at a hard pace, taxing their stamina to make up for lost time. Zahrok’s lungs heaved, but at least they maintained a steady rhythm as the band moved. No one showed any signs of slowing.
Held against Zahrok’s chest, Rylinn couldn’t help recalling the duel he had with his leader. “You don’t have a breastbone, do you?” she asked, looking up.
“No,” he panted. “Our ribs need room to open up during hosting. Otherwise, the guest may get stuck.”
“Does ‘victim’ sound better to you?”
“More accurate,” Rylinn admitted. “But not better.”
“Guest, victim, captive, master, partner, lover - depends on who’s involved and why,” Zahrok said.
Rylinn’s thoughts and eyes turned toward Grak, carrying Avi just ahead. Worry swi