They stare at each other.

"I had not meant to say anything," he admits, finally breaking the silence. His arm feels like lead when he reaches up to brush her cheek, and he clings to the scent of hope rolling off her. "I am aware that humans undertake these matters differently."

Her eyes close against his hand and like splatters of incongruent paint on a canvas, a rapid swirl of emotions colors her scent, each competing for dominance. "How so?" she whispers.

"More slowly." He pulls his claws through her hair, cocking his head and watching her.

She doesn't run.