My crows? [ He says, voice full of amusement and disbelief. ] Says the woman who's been encouraging the skivs for years.

[ Nevermind that they haven't gone away in her absence. If pressed, he'll say it's because they were noisy when they were demanding to be fed.

His attention soon goes elsewhere, focused in on how warm she is and how the salt from the ocean has stuck to her skin. Later, he knows she'll want to rinse it all off with the hottest bath imaginable. For now, though, he breathes her in, glad for the familiar scent. ]

Mm, whatever you like. [ Kaz murmurs against her shoulder, giving her a small nuzzle. With her tucked so close, all of his anxiety has quieted, the adrenaline finally starting to ratchet down. Perhaps it should be embarrassing, how quickly her presence comforts him and allows him to calm down.

Instead, he's just relieved.

Feeling the beginning tugs of exhaustion—the real kind, that he knows he'll be able to rest with—he toys with the end of her braid, looping the furl of it over two of his fingers. Maybe it's the sleeplessness or even the plan to visit the country; the words come loose, without much of a filter. ]

Next time we go to the country, I'll show you where I grew up.