Ocean's Breath Plateau walrus fat

There was a long, quiet moment where Dutch could do nothing but fall gratefully into the seal hunter's embrace. He was held, very gently — cradled, almost — for the first time in many months. The tenderness of the moment sapped all the strength from him, and — just for a moment! — it was understood that his only job in the world was to keep breathing. So he focused on that, his ribcage fanning outward with unusual effort.

Dutch was strong enough for this. Chakliux, in that small moment, was strong enough for everything else.

But in the way of men, the panther quickly found the seeds of shame and competition. He rallied, sweeping a thin arm outward to tighten the embrace; there was no need for Chakliux to be gentle with him, after all. But there was no embarrassment in his tears. No embarrassment in the way that his heart broke open at the sound of the other man's voice. No embarrassment in the relief that bloomed hot and vital in his chest as reality settled in: He was safe again. He was home and he was safe.

"My heart has been here," he said after many steadying, laborious breaths. He opened his mouth to speak more, and then only buried his face against the thick fur at the other man's shoulder instead. The heady seaspray scent of him made his heart beat unevenly.

"Thank you," he breathed, still full of miserable, heart-wrenching sentiment. "For my family. Our family. I knew — I worried for all of you, but I knew you would be there for them."