Hoshor Plains and i'm sorry that i lie when i talk to you

The soft sound almost slips past him, consumed as he is by his own raging emotions, but it registers distantly after a moment. I'm sorry, He's speaking before he even realizes he wants to, muffled by chocolate fur, and his voice breaks on the second word. He doesn't know if he's apologizing for being so bold, or for crying on him, or for not answering him before — probably all of it, really. Not that he can be bothered to right any of his wrongs; instead, true to his nature, he tucks himself closer in an attempt to lose himself entirely in the stranger's fur. He's fairly certain it's possible, all things considered.