This is a sketch from the lovely colormeviolet ( http://www.furaffinity.net/user/colormeviolet/ or https://www.weasyl.com/~colormeviolet ) of an amazon zebra in her regular armor sans helmet doing guardduty on a watchtower.
The picture originates from the shortstory "On the Watchtower".

I'd love to find somebody to color it for me.

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A guardian on the gate-tower of the city of Yucatan ( so named by the humans that found the nearby jungles and the terraced ziggurat in its center resembling stories they had brought along from earth ) , a zebragirl in her late teens, standing and looking out over the bleak desert, waiting for the sun to rise which already is starting to color the sky ahead of itself.

She's wearing her full armor, a task much easier at night than during the day when the heavy steel of the plate armor would heat up terribly.
Her helmet she does not wear as not to impair her alert ears that flick to listen to the noises of the night.
Far too often small raider groups manage to scale the walls or raid the outlying fields, and the young mare takes her duty serious.
The light of the dimmed coals dances on her armor, and colors the white fur of her cleavage a light orange.

"Swordmistress, why do the standard armors show.. cleavage? Isn't that a great weakness?" she asked her sword teacher once.

"Good observation, pupil. It would be a weakness agaisnt an enemy using stabbing weapons such as spears, or ranged weapons such as bows.
The Desert Raiders however favour blunt cutting weapons, clubs, and only seldomly cutting weapons such as axes. Your chest is more at danger when they get close enough to use their claws than from those weapons."

"Still Mistress, why don't we use full enclosing armors. I saw ancient designs that did not expose more than the eyes and ears and nostrils..."

"You forget something, pupil. In a battle, yes, even on guard duty, you will never be alone.
Always one of the small folk will be with you, for their nightvision and hearing is better than ours, same as their nostrils are more sensitive than ours."

"I.. I do not understand Mistress?"

"They are males. They are aroused by our forms, they enjoy the view, they enjoy the scent, and be sure they enjoy to touch them, too."

Here the young mare snorted:"I think I now understand even less, mistress...?"

Softly the old scarred swordmistress snorted there:
"Pupil, maybe you think the fennekims horny jerkins, and boastful clowns, and true, that they are.
But before any foe will be able to sink his claws or fangs into his body, he will have to get past any of the little folk that is around.
You think I got those wounds from glorious battles I won?"

The pupil nodded, and the teacher neighed heartily.

"I got them from those times I lost and was on the ground, unconscious, and my life I have only through the virtue, male vanity and compassion of Aslan, Harnuk, Ferwan and Haran," and at mentioning each name she pointed at a grisly , but well healed wound,
"each of whom gave his life to protect me until others came to save me."
The teacher looked at the pupil and pupil lowered her head.
"They may be small in stature, boisterous, loud, flirtatious and plain horny little assholes at times. But each will lay his life at your feet without hesitation, and as they enjoy so much to see our bodies, and to feel them, it is a little price to pay in return for what they are willing to give."

Slowly the pupil had nodded there.

"You will be introduced to the volunteer of the small people which we selected for you in an hour. He is just as young as you, and as unexperienced in manners between the people as you are. He is a skilled scout and archer, though, having learned to hunt the small bugs and lizards of the deserts around the city since his youth. You two will be on guard duty during the coming half year on the towers of Yucatans outer fortifications. When you two work together well, you will receive orders to march to Bassorah, as part of the trade delegation we send there to negotiate deliveries of raw metals in exchange for fruits and lizardskins...."

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And now?

Softly the mare looked at the little furred shape curled up on a thick blanket in the rear corner of the tower. Half as tall as her, the fennek male had volunteered to be part of the military contingent each city provided each year to keep the caravans safe. For four years he would be working and fighting with the larger mares, instead of traveling and learning for the one year his people considered mandatory to become eligible to court for the love of a woman of his own kind. Considering that 2/3 of the volunteers died in those four years it was a brave decision. Though the mares had the better deal of it. 4 out of 10 Caravans without fennekim got ambushed, 2 of which usualyl meant a total loss, and the two others meant serious losses in material and life. Take 10 caravans with fennekim amongst their guards, only 2 got ambushed - and both get away with light casualties only.

On the ladder the heavy steel shod hoofsteps of her relief came up, and silently they saluted to each other, Maia gave her short report and then she knelt down and gently lifted her little brother in armsup and gently pressed him to her chest where his muzzle came to rest comfortably in her cleavage. The mares that had designed those armors had known the purpose of this part. Sleepily his eyes opened:"Is it morning?" he croaked and she stepped down the ladder, holding him gently in the crook of her left arm.

"It is, and your poetry and rhymes kept the night at bay." For he had stayed awake after her shift had begun after midnight, and instead of laying down to sleep, he had stood guard with her, telling her stories of the strange new people that came into town a few days ago, told her some more of the story of the moons and their lover, and proceeded with how Harun ibn Ardach, the eldest, and Sword-Princess Ina had forged the alliance between the amazones and fennekim, until she was wide awake.