[He really wants a hug but he doesn't know how to ask about this shit so he…. just…. touches Damen’s arm…. yeah.]

It worked out. [He's repeating it to himself as if trying to nail it down, trying to convince himself it's real. He's breathless; he's smiling.] It worked out.

[Next coping instinct: ride off somewhere to deal with everything (also figure out how to ask for affection damnit.)Except-]

Why doesn't she have a saddle? Now i have to deal with- everything- I'm talking gibberish. Stop my mouth.

[fdgfjghksdghfl;]