Dragoncrest Cliffs turning my heart on and off

”South, to ze mountains she said, hurriedly adding, ”Well, to Silvertip, I believe.” Unable to simply stand, she followed his gaze to the sound before edging closer to him. Trying and failing to support the casual tone of his. ”It’s been so long since I’ve been among them.”

Lowering her head in acquiescence to his position — just in case — and tail trailing her hocks, she warily, but gently, pressed her neck under and alongside his own, tall enough that her shoulder pressed into his winter-worn chest. She fought her own urge to lean into him; to melt into him as she had that night. But she couldn’t help her lashes fluttering closed as she murmured, ”Go to ze apothecary again while I’m away, dragâ. You’re hurting,” Her voice again lilting, with a dulcet, quiet edge to it; and then, a soft smile within, “I want you walking properly by ze time I return.”

Of course, not the words she’d wanted to say or even expected to leave her mouth—to joke that he wouldn’t miss her. Not that she wanted to be missed. Obviously. But how else to show she was glad he’d made it through? How could she say something logical, reasonable, when his presence made her brim under her own winter coat?

Only a week. Only a day later, she might be pestering Tux to turn back, giving some off-handed and meager excuse for trekking back. Carefully, she pressed herself a bit further against him, hesitantly nuzzling and avoiding where he was tender; tried to chart the feel of him into her.