Stone Circle Half a world away

He watched silently as Valette cleaned the wound more, looking at her with a gaze that spoke more words that he could say himself. She was humble, she was kind, she was caring— she was everything. He couldn't imagine where he would be now if she had turned him away at the border when he first arrived, ragged in the middle of winter. If Valette would ask him to drop dead right then and there perhaps he would have with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face.

He was snapped out of his love-sick mindset by her announcement of the clean words, and upon noticing he was staring for who knows how long, he looked at the would with surprise. His fur around the area was wet, soaked with the water she was squeezed in, and the wound still stung, but underneath he could tell his flesh was thanking him for relief.

As Valette hunkered down and snuggled against him, face nearly disappearing in his fur, he let a small hum leave his chest and lowered his head to rest it softly over his shoulders. It was nice—the warmth of her against him, the display of affection. He let out another sigh and closed his eyes as well, letting the exhaustion take him and the scent of Valette encompass him. "Thank you," he whispered, but perhaps it wasn't only for cleaning his wound.