You think I'd get better at this eventually

At his request, Kitsune rapped her knuckles against the side of his face—a far cry from an actual strike, but enough to make the shipwrecked sailor laugh and calm down a bit. Her paw lingered on his cheek, feeling like fire against his skin in all the best ways. Warmth and longing. He had missed this; missed her. She leaned in to kiss his forehead and Kumiho could have wept again. Gods, he'd been such a fool! So reckless and singleminded in his determination to do right by her. Kit suggested making up for their lost time, which he wholeheartedly agreed with, and then asked almost uncertainly if he was staying. Iho looked up almost shocked, their blue eyes meeting as he gave her a little smile and a nod. "Nowhere else I'd rather be," he reassured her, raising a paw to rest it over her own on his cheek. This was home to him. Kitsune was his home and he'd been gone for far too long.

When she permitted him to stand up, Kumiho began to shift and rise back to his paws. He groaned at the strain his aching muscles were unhappy to make. Swimming for your life in a stormy sea had a way of wearing one out. Once he was up, Iho gave a quick shake of his coat to free it of the loose sand, wobbling a bit on unsteady legs. He needed food, water, maybe a painkiller, and a long nap. "I, uh... don't suppose I can still crash with you, can I?"

"Speech"