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

The race of his heart thumps against the silver's back, a quickened pace as worry settles into his bones like a forgotten friend. His focus steels on Zephyr, reassuring him with the touch of his muzzle and champagne eyes that seek answers to silent questions.
A breath is released in a puff of relief as he settles in an attempt to get them both comfortable. Whatever afflictions haunt Zephyr he isn't certain of, but cuddle with his mate he can do. Kratos doesn't want to be far from him right now.
Okay, he answers, I'm here. And he won't be going anywhere from Zephyr's side.
Even as their coupling fades, and the afterglow soon with it, he remains with him. The silver chews upon his forearm as he talks about random shit, about anything—until they both tire and dreams call. Kratos remains on guard, forever a light sleeper, but feels at ease alongside his mate.