"Bless ya, Ophelia," thanked Leroy in nothing more than a murmur, beckoning for more interaction by gliding that sturdy noggin of his into her dusky paw. Oh, how he hadn’t felt peaceful contact between two bodies like this in years. In this case, he fiercely wished to remember this taction; unlike previous encounters. would be a lie to say he had not fooled around with anyone in his nigh six years of existence (you’d be an odd sock if you didn’t get desperate for synergy in the same situation where he was), yet none of those action-packed evenings were on the same level of intimacy as simply speaking to this specific dame. He regretted it, too, as the hound did in regards to most of his foregoing experiences, because if he ever guessed that a figure like Ophelia would come into his life, he’d stay pure, solely for her. As long as past Leroy stayed as past Leroy, everything was going to coincide perfectly. Chiefly this connection between the two.

Her guarantee that their bond was out of the ordinary enlightened him. She was right. It was more than a friendship, it was a closeness disregarding their differences and interests, one that ignored the boundaries of good and bad, a concurrent taste of ardency and honesty, with flames of passion-fueled intimacy. It almost felt wrong, seeing that their link had been going on for just more than a month, yet once you took into account that some people did not even last that long in these radioactive marshlands he called home, you could truly recognize how extraordinary any tie in a similar fashion to this was.

”D’ya have any particula’ dishes or drinks worth usin’ in a celebration? I wanna propose a toast, t’ us, and ta hopefully years of cherishin’ each other. If I know anythin’ at all, I know tha’s how I feel right now.” The honeyed statement sort of flew out of his jaws, not thinking about the impact they could potentially have - but he didn’t want to worry about any impact, all he desired was for right now.