Qeya River weeping willow

her kiss lingers between his eyes; he brings his nose to brush against her ear, returning the gesture with a gentle nip to her cheek.

he adores her. utterly and completely. it is not weakness to him—never has been. it is strength, a driving force, a fire that warms the coldest reaches of him. she could ask anything of him, and he would give it without question. he would follow her to the ends of the earth if that was what she wanted.

he growls playfully, nips at her cheek fur. i understand enough.

but soon as he taunts her, he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, and drags his tongue through the thick fur behind her ear. sucking up so that she will not bite him back.

as he grooms her, though, his eyes seem to drift. spacing out in the silence of their shared affection. there are things to consider. futures to shape. he pulls away, if only slightly, and moves a paw to press firmly but gently to her flank.

is this where you want to spend the rest of your life?