Overture Downs make your peace

He isn’t gentle in the way he ought to be, digging rough with nips across Ghost’s fur; tough in the spots where the silver is stained red, growing darker and transforming in coloration the longer it sits to dry. Ghost reaches over, grooming him in return.

Expected, but it flashes back to the moment when the Wayfarer laid with Ghost’s lookalike—breathless giggles under each stretch as they played in secret.

A sigh of contentment escapes his lips.

Part of him wonders if the connection is truly there, or if it is this falsity that the Wayfarer sinks in. Nonetheless, he moves enough to lick across Ghost’s cheek, over an eye that leaks. There’s no comment about the tears, just an aid to hide them from the rest of the world.

He doesn’t halt there, however, as he goes to snag a tall ear between his teeth with an eyebrow quirking upwards.