Exton

Ike drifts. Her mind closes on itself. She knows she should go to stone, but she has a need to be where she is. The feel of Monty lying against her, his jaw rubbing over her furred cheek. They talk softly. Every time she winces, or moans from the pain, Monty seems to press closer.

She licks his nose, settling down again after shifting to a slightly less painful position. Her eyes close and she drifts to sleep, feeling the rumble of his breathing as a sweet comfort.