Once they were finished dressing, Dukey grabbed Clara around the waist and held her for a long moment, smiling, until he kissed her on the lips once more, and pulled back, looking deep in her eyes. He breathed heavily, still, and spoke softly. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He lifted one hand to her cheek, and caressed it, while with the other, he soothed his sore bottom, checking to make sure he wasn't bleeding. He also looked down to see if any of her blood had soaked through his boxers and jeans.<br/><br/>"Let's use this for what it was intended," he chuckled and picked up the fallen pitchfork, gathered some hay and tossed it down for Bruce and Piranha, knowing that they had just finished the same act that Clara and he had.<br/><br/>He set the pitchfork back up where it originally was, and descended the ladder, noticing Bruce tending to what appeared to be a pair of horseshoe-shaped bruises, licking and soothing them. Dukey winced, as they looked painful.<br/><br/>He put his hands up to catch Clara, should she fall off the ladder, knowing she would most likely be walking funny. As she got near the lowest rung of the ladder, he patted and pinched her backside, then pushed aside her hair from the back of her neck, and placed a soft kiss there.<br/><br/>He glanced at Piranha, and she snorted. He went to get some water to fill the trough, touching Bruce's flanks lightly and whispering, "Way to go..."