The Chase...a Winters' game

        She senses him, musky, agitated, near. She pads nimble and quick, gaining speed as she closes, lips curl at his heels; he spins. Eyes laugh, teeth grin in the fleeing darkness. Haunches ripple.They thrash, limbs and teeth and tongues in exquisite savage consummation

the chase had gone on

out onto the lawn made out

in front of the dawn

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