Wild Berry Meadow yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,

You’re upset.
 
“I-” Though his words choke upon the precipice of his lips, surrendered under the sudden touch afforded by the sterling phantom. It was velvety, a tender allotment of physical touch that made his muscles transmogrify to stone in a brief moment of shock. It was entirely reflexive, blossomed under the silent distress he had caused himself by expecting some type of vengeance to be carved across his flesh like scars in granite. Though it did not come.
 
As he grasped the clarity of the situation, he almost instantly fell into subservience, acquiescing under the slight affection he was afforded. His muzzle brushed along his shoulder, weaving a pathway along the athletic sinew of his body to rest at the crest of his nape, pillowed by the cushion of soft mauve furs. With his body pressed against him, he could not help but notice how diminutive Zephyr was.
 
A soft smile crept along his mouth, his gaze cast to the floor in shame. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly, “here you are comforting me, when I should be comforting you.”
 
He lowered his head, coming to rest his chin softly across the argent pelage of his spine, his skull tilting so that his cheek pressed against his skin and he may peak at him from the side.
 
“Alessia-”
 
“HeINoUS BItcH,” a throaty snarl gurgled from his throat in a stranger's voice.
 
“- she didn’t… say much… about what happened between you, but she looked very sad. I don’t know if that brings you comfort,” he continued, unaware of the transient shift.