You needn't have worried about intruding, you immediately realize; it's clear upon the instant that Hua and Quen are so completely absorbed in one another, just now, that the world itself could shatter, and neither would begin to notice. Even blind you'd know that—the cabin's air is thick with the mingled scents of the two women within, so heavy with musk that you can almost taste it—but you're not blind, and what you see before you, at the foot of the bed they did not bother to reach, is a marvel:
—the wolf woman's long body stretched across the boards, belly down to them and mother naked—ah, yes, there are her clothes, and there, and there, and Hua's beautiful moiré robe thrown heedless aside along with them. Belly down, but rump high, her thighs trembling with fear and lust and exertion and pleasure as she presents herself—rump high and head thrown back and tail hard aside, the very image of eager readiness to receive that for which she's pined so long—
—and Hua—Quen's head back anyway but Hua's fist tight in her hair snatches it back further. Quen's tail flagged aside regardless but Hua's other hand pulls it aside, hard enough to hurt. Quen would be belly down to the deck of her own accord but Hua's own body covers hers, weight thrown heedless against Quen's back and driving her against the boards—taut strong thighs spread on either side of Quen's own, ankles pinioning the taller woman's calves as if to hold her in place there, too—
They are both beautiful—neither woman moving for long moments, still there almost as if frozen in time, on the very point of an intimacy from which you can see Hua's thighs and tail trembling with the force of holding herself back. But not quite frozen—Hua's muzzle is very near Quen's ear, lips skinned back over her teeth, and whatever it is she's snarling that's too quiet to hear, it has Quen softly whimpering, and makes her own thighs tremble all the more—no, she's shaking not just there but all over.
Shaking all over and suddenly lets out a great loud sobbing moan that halfway through turns into a howling "PLEASE YES PLEASE!" and Hua holds herself poised no more but gives a loud low growl far back in her throat and thrusts—hard enough to ram Quen's haunches flat to the deck—Quen herself no longer howling, but screaming with pleasure and pain and relief and release, the sheer strength of it all but overwhelming your mind-sense—and reverberating through your communion with the deep thing, too, and you can feel its own vast mind marveling at the sense of it quite as much as at the matchless sight before your eyes—and, mindful of the deep thing's desire to see, to explore the new sense you have given it, you watch for long moments as Hua and Quen begin their reconciliation in earnest. Watch, and listen, ears half flat in self-defense from the sheer volume of it—and now at last, you realize, you do know what elicited the screams you've heard from this cabin before now.
A nudge from Lu's shoulder brings you somewhat back to yourself—you've been standing here a while, you realize, just taking in the sight and sound and scent and sense of them, and not a little dazed thereby—such powers they both are, and arouse in one another! And Lu looks a little dazed, too, and no wonder. But you've both a task in hand here—she to look after you, you to let yourself be looked after—and neither of you wishes to disappoint, even if—a loud snarl, a shriek, and now they're pounding against the boards, hard enough to set them in tremors you feel in the soles of your feet—even if your captain is not likely to be in a mood for harsh remonstration, once this first measure of Quen's shrift is done.
Lu nudges you again, and reluctantly you turn from the sight of them locked together, and toward the captain's bath.