Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle

Typhon's comment about her already being an aunt seemed to be taken well by her, and he felt himself grinning slightly in response. Feigning new understanding, he hummed softly.  "Ah, I see," he murmured, though his grin had widened as well. He hadn't anticipated such a response to more openly admitting that he was 'working on it,' so to speak, and he was marginally surprised when she moved forward to touch his muzzle gently. He wasn't the best at physical affection, especially when it came to family, but he didn't flinch away from her touch. "Your favorite?" He echoed curiously. He didn't remember much from his youth, though he certainly remembered not being anyone's favorite back then, in the limited time he'd even remained with his family.

Of course, he knew time changed things. He hadn't been certain he'd even be welcomed back within the group but apparently he'd made progress in the long stretch of time he'd been sent away, and luckily no one had questioned his absence, other than a few comments about thinking he'd been dead. But hearing he was someone's favorite now, even if only in jest, made his spirits quietly sore. At least he was valuable enough to keep around, to converse with so openly and with such mirth.  "I do hope it will be a grant time. Isn't that the entire point?" He was just being playful; his feelings for Zinnia, though still confusing to him, were about far more than just having a good time. He'd grown to care for her since he'd rescued her and time was only deepening those feelings.