Gilded Bay deserted, my organs can go on without me

The Mayfair felt fogged and electrified at once when Phocion's touch again tracked through his fur; it was overwhelmingly strange, to bounce between such vastly different emotions. He soaked in the feeling nonetheless, and was disappointed when Phocion moved away once again. That fell forgotten when he registered the invitation extended to him. Cortland blinked once, twice, eyes wide and blank.
Of course. The words were quiet but full of conviction. He pressed forward abruptly, muzzle seeking his friend's cheek first; he nosed the soft fur there, trailing to the base of his ear. The boy daringly smoothed his tongue over the velvety outer shell, and lost his nerve there. He lowered his head slightly to bury his face in Phocion's neck, repeating himself even more softly this time: Of course I'll come with you.