Kintla Flatlands [m] so please don't take me for no fool

He melts under the feeling of teeth against his scruff, the rumbling sound of Kratos's growl. Their conversation has left him worn, fragile, defeated in some ways; the affection is desperately needed, borderline intoxicating at this point. He lets out a heavy breath as words fill the air again, leaning closer. Be mine, he says, and the rest somehow seems less important.
It doesn't even occur to him to refuse, though a million thoughts run through his mind all at once. I'll go with you, He says, voice growing slightly shaky as he continues. Promise you won't leave me.