Redtail Rise buoyant

ancelin had never felt like this before. he was almost drunken with it, with their nearness, his own want for the touch and the warmth of her frame pressed against him. 
my only
the bearclaw boy was not a romantic, nor much of a speaker. he had not inherited his grandfather's malicious wit, nor the solemnity of his father. and of his mother's kindness and own quick teeth, ancelin had only taken one of those qualities.
"and you're my only."
but with lilia, here, now, he knew he desired to be better. to be more; to be, for her, what others had not been for him. he nuzzled through her fur again, letting his breath out in something like relief, while his cheeks burned with the force of his grinning.