Duskfire Glacier glacierline

he breathes through his nose, low and steady, as he shifts closer. without ceremony, he draws her in, a heavy foreleg slipping over her shoulders so she can lean, settle all that weight onto him. and he takes it without protest, without strain. as if he'd been built for exactly this—bearing things others shouldn’t have to.
faust tilts his chin to rest over the crown of her head, exhaling slowly, the warmth of her pressed against his ribs a comfort he hadn’t known he needed.
you women drive me fucking insane, he mutters, though there’s no heat to it. only dry amusement, roughened by relief. a joke shared in the quiet.
his gaze drops down the length of her, landing on that leg. his brow furrows, as if it were some riddle he’s only now realizing was never solved. has your leg always been like this?
it isn't judgment—just curiosity, laced with something protective beneath the grit. he doesn’t pull his weight from her. doesn’t move like he’s about to leave her side anytime soon. if anything, he settles deeper into the snow with her tucked close, like this is where he intends to stay for as long as she’ll let him.

light pp, let me know if not okay!