Permafrost Hollows i'm watchin' the phone ring; it's making me angry

He manages not to break any of the thorns while still embedded within Zephyr’s face. The ones nearest to his moonlight eyes are the most challenging, as Kratos has to maneuver his head in a strange way, and their size difference does little to aid this.
By the time it is done, the dragon clicks his teeth, snapping the last once he’s pulled it from Zephyr’s reach. It flicks in two directions. Neither smacking either of them, fortunately. A snort exhales from his nose following the kiss. He pulls Zephyr close, resting his chin atop the wraith’s head.
There is no need to thank him, for he assumes it is just a natural thing to do—this life that he’s searched for is finally becoming a reality. It often feels unreal, a dream that he doesn’t quite wake from. But Kratos would never complain.