honey, I'm home

She could tell by the way he tensed up, a growl in his voice that he wasn't pleased. That he wanted more for his efforts, which was fair enough, she supposed. From the state of him it was easy to deduce he'd had a rough time, ripped and torn into, but victorious all the same. Home where he should be. He was getting prickly, no doubt pent-up frustration worsening his mood. It was hard to not take it personally, to not sulk or jab back, but she didn't think either of those responses would get her very far. She knew how to handle him better than anyone else, was willing enough to fall back on old habits to placate him if and when she needed to.

"Then I'm so glad you do know better." She told him ever so softly, stopping her nibbling as she laid a little flatter against the furs, smaller, as she diverted her gaze in obvious submission.  Not forced but readily given. "But I knew you would, as I will always come back to you."

She'd tried, had told him as much when they'd last spoken. He knew this, hadn't forgotten, was just cranky and pent-up.

"I just...you looked tired. I wanted to help you relax."Was that so wrong? To not force a conversation out of him when he clearly wasn't in the mood? Apparently that nicety was mistaken for a lack of care, typical.