She smiles, her whiskers twitching as he licks her cheek, churring softly when his tongue laps over her neck, her tail flicking idly. Tamara then giggles as he noses her swollen belly, her wtomach already churning on the now dead fawn, slowly turning him into nutrients to fuel the tigress. Her paws wanders on his neck, scritching and rubbing him through the lush fur there.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">- Well, take the male too  I'm already full. The fawn is more than enough to keep me going for a while. I don't need as much meat than you do, and I guess I owe you something for giving me this delicious morself of a fawn.</span>