Gilded Bay deserted, my organs can go on without me

Slowly, his trembling calmed, then halted entirely. Everything he needed in this moment, Phocion gave freely; tears welled in his eyes at this thought. His breaths still came shallow, erratic, but it felt different now. A small tremor swept along his spine— even that was a different feeling. He was hyper-aware of the warmth between them, of Phocion's fur mingling with his own. Foreign as the emotion was, it both terrified and thrilled him. Cortland pressed closer, whining so softly it was barely audible.
When he mentioned Ava, the spell was broken. The sunset Mayfair didn't move, but the warm glow encasing him faded all too quickly. He closed his eyes and sighed softly; it was a weary, forlorn sound. I don't know, Cortland admitted after several beats. She was... mysterious. It was true— the woman had appeared so suddenly, and had offered so little of herself. A spike of concern shot through him nonetheless at the news that Phocion didn't know where she was. What if she was gone forever— what if it was his fault? He tensed, emotions threatening to spill over once again.