Full. The first full sound — not the contained ones, not the managed ones, the specific, honest, unmanaged output of a body that had received something deep and was reporting it at full volume.
Her back arched.
The warrior's body doing the same thing Rua's body had done in the forest — the specific, involuntary arc of someone receiving at depth, the spine curving, the shoulders pressing down, the whole architecture of the body oriented around the event at its center.
PAAH. PAAH.
'—HAANN~!! AAAHN~!!—'
CLAP. CLAP.
The sounds of the room filling — not only Sora's sounds, because Wren beside them was making her own sounds in response to his hand which had returned to her while he moved, the dual-note output of two young women at two different stages of the same morning.
'—AAAHN~!! AHN~!! HAANN~!!!—' (Sora)
'—Aaahn~! Aah~! AAAHN~!!!—' (Wren)
PAAH. PAAH. PAAH.
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
He turned to Wren.
