Firefly Glen Swift

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He felt suddenly very warm and flustered when she spoke, which largely had something to do with her pressing her hind feet into the sensitive skin of his thighs, and he was reminded of the spar he'd had with Opalia; this too, he figured, was another one of those hyper-sensitive places that could potentially be very painful, if she'd decided to dig her claws in. But being as gentle as he was, he felt himself overwhelmed not with worry or fear, but with something new and powerful, which made him feel both staggeringly confident and horrifically insecure at the same time.

He would've melted at her words, but he was also very aware of the fact that he didn't just want to drop to the ground, or he'd land directly on her. Still, his legs faltered and trembled a little at her touch, and his expression warmed to express a fondness and longing. “Huntress of the Forest,” He repeated softly. “Then I must be your prey,” He said, reaching down to nuzzle his nose into the soft fur of her cheek with a sudden assuredness that came with the rising confidence he felt. This felt right, somehow; it felt as though he was able to express how he felt without having to worry about backlash.

Her comment made him blush, as he alone knew how little experience he had in close contact with women. Of the many that Bronco had flirted with, or been kind to, none had shown him nearly as much affection as Vallkyrie, and he was enamoured with how generous she was with her affections. “I don't steal; I give,” He said, reaching down to kiss her cheek again, “And am gifted the same in return.”