Bramblepoint cranky curmudgeon

The tightness in Cypress’ chest and throat melted away, and with its release came a weak-limbed, watery-eyed sensation that he quietly, steadily set aside. “Thanks,” he said with feeling. “That means a lot to me — and you know I feel the same way, right?” His brow furrowed as he strove to find the right words to give Rannoch the same feeling of validation and belonging. “Rian’s our brother now — that was an idea I had, to make a new family out of the ashes we left behind — but he’ll never replace you in my life.” Unabashedly and affectionately, Cypress nibbled at the thicker fur that bordered Rannoch’s cheek where it met the strong angle of his jaw. A laugh burst softly from the eidolon, ridding his sinister mien of its harsh lines and forbidding planes. “You’re just like paw,” he said fondly, the bitterness of melancholic nostalgia dipping the observation down at the final syllable. “I used to be jealous about that. Now I’m just — ” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Guess I’m happy about it,” he confessed. “Happy and proud.” Cypress was not the emotive, expressive creature he had perhaps been shaping up to be before tragedy struck his life, but the smile that tugged at the rightmost corner of his mouth was genuine.

“Make our own Neverwinter,” he mused, that expression of muted contentment still softening the severity of his visage. “If we settle anywhere — like, really settle — we should try to find a place we can easily defend. We should probably practice hunting before then, too. Where would you want to go, Noch? If you could go anywhere.”