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[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

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[longwillows]

[His amusement encourages her little smile into a toothy grin. Even with the tether in a weakened state, it shakes with her excitement—as do her tails, their sway becoming a full-on wag. His palm is met with a slight and sudden tensing of her tendons as it alights on her foot, which relaxes as his hand moves upward to circle his fingers around her ankle.

(In tandem with the bloom of supernatural heat beneath her skin, the faint and brief sensation of a tickle passes over the psychic connection.)

She keeps his gaze steadily, irises shimmering with iridescence in her delight.] I'm always happy to shuffle you to the top of my priority list.

[Delicately she bends at the waist to reach down to him. The points of her claws and pads of her fingertips are both gentle as they brush down the side of his face, over the hollow of his cheek and down, where her thumb settles in the shallow dimple of his chin. She's captivated by the resulting warmth, a comforting taste of what their tether used to be.] As long as you don't spread word about my favoritism, of course.