The bearmorph's name, Reynard had learned, was Harold. After the meeting she approached Harold and told him in no uncertain tone that he needed a grooming.
Fur gets matted. People get external parasites, including the local equivalent of a tick. Pieces of vegetation get stuck in the fur, particularly in the back where you can't get at it. Grooming was both social ritual and necessity. Sometimes it was efficient and functional, as when Reynard and the nameless one, formerly Vixie, had groomed each other. Sometimes, as both Reynard and Harold knew, it was foreplay.
Bearmorphs don't socialize much, and Harold's back fur was a mess. The bear gratefully lay down and Reynard began to meticulously remove burrs, pieces of matted or loose fur, parasites and just plain dirt. After a half an hour she said "Over" and Harold rolled onto his back. The front was much cleaner, as it tended to be, but something was apparent as Reynard's clever fingers ranged over the bearmorph's body--Harold's growing erection. Reynard gave a small smile.
She finished by removing some stickers in Harold's feet, another place bearmorphs have trouble reaching. Harold expressed his profuse gratitude and offered to reciprocate, as was the normal courtesy.
"Oh" Reynard replied "You're going to groom me back, don't worry about that. But first, is there something else I can help you with?" She gave a significant glance to Harold's crotch.
"Well ma'am" responded the slightly embarassed but mostly turned-on bearmorph "I think maybe there is."