❝Wuh—? Oh! Right. Well, um, ever since you put me in the tub, I started healing a bit. Unlike you,❞ side glance. ❝I heal, just a little slow… I’ll be fine.❞
The more minor cuts, gashes, &. bruises have shrunken considerably. He’s—
wagging tail.
⠀⠀“you made friends with me, so, you get to reap the rewards.” a shrug. “…speaking of, do i need to like.. take you to a hospital or.. how are you *feeling?”
— conscious enough to clasp several constructs around his larger wounds &. keep the pressure on them now, at the very least.
❝But you can stick around if you want. You &. Noir are … nice t’ have around here. I like your company a—
Out comes a chuckle at the compliment. He squirms a bit, sheepish now. ❝I get it from my Ma, I think. She’s really, really old.❞
His less injured arm raises, hesitates for half a second, then a palm rests atop Conan’s head. Fenrir —
⠀⠀on the kill roster, after all.
⠀⠀a moment of silence, and then, “you look fuckin’ amazing for *eighty, by the way. i almost don’t wanna believe you.”
— loves this, surely the only other canis lupus based supe he knows also eats the physical affections up. ❝Thanks for helping me back here, Conan. You’re a good boy.❞ Pat pat. Still allegedly though. Has yet to see the guy do anything—