Moonspear boys doin' the twist.

Liffey frowned when he admitted to feeling still, but relaxed as he continued. She supposed that was a common affliction when one remained sedentary for long periods of time, which Rannoch certainly had been. So, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing that he felt this way. As his commentary morphed from standard wellness update to emotional declaration, the Blackthorn felt her worry melting into affection. Her pulse quickened as he spoke, and she shortly found herself unable to say a thing in response. All she could do for a moment was stare at him with love in her eyes and draped across her expression, until finally she stood and stepped forward to smush her head gently into his broad chest.

"Are you sure you're real?" she asked quietly, truly wondering in that moment. It simply didn't seem possible that someone like Rannoch, with all of his love and tenderness and strength could exist. Even more impossible was the fact that he felt this way for her, of all wolves. She nuzzled against him and breathed in his scent, checking to make sure that he really was real and not some perfect figment of her imagination.