Lost Creek Hollow Sir, you have no call to get snippy with me!

Joss struggled to get through the rest of the de-quilling, but eventually that moment came when Gannet removed his foot from Joss's narrow muzzle and allowed him to sit up. He leered at the quils on the ground there, and lifted a foot, wanting to scuffle a bunch of snow and dirt over them so that no one else would step on them and end up quilled. He froze, though, when Gannet leaned toward him again, squinting his eyes as he suspected that perhaps he'd missed a quill or two. But what came next wasn't the prick of pain that had made his eyes water; instead, Gannet had licked his cheek. 

Joss remained frozen; he couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him gently, and he wasn't entirely sure if this was going to turn into pain or not. He opened his eyes and continued to give Gannet a harsh side-eye, but he didn't move away, either. He prepared himself to fight back if necessary, but it didn't seem like he'd have to. Gannet was simply cleaning his wounds, which stung slightly- but at the same time, the warmth of his tongue soothed some of the pain away. As soon as Gannet stopped, Joss turned his head ever so slightly toward him, still watching the pale male out of the corner of his eye, and still tense- but at the same time, he hesitantly leaned a bit closer; a silent, scared plea for him to continue.