Felih hums a little, before quietly asking, "Why not just drop the tribe marker? It- it feels like... constantly being reminded of something like that... a failed tribe... wouldn't it just be painful?" he muses next, although he does feel his ears perk up at the mention of a twin- ah, but they're gone now. No need to dig up any more painful memories. Felih had to drop his tribe marker long ago- stripped of it. No right to call it his tribe anymore... but the Scions will be home, now.

He feels his cheeks burn, and laughs softly, before bowing his head and bunting his against Th'ancred's, chest fluttering at the low, intimate tone.

"Well. Still, if we're counting Scions as a tribe, you might have some competition from me, you know," he teases. "We should fight for it," he chirps, before sipping more of his drink, before knocking it all back at once, savoring the sweet, fruity taste with a hint of the alcoholic burn. His words sound undoubtedly playful- after all, Felih isn't the type for squabbling, but he will play-wrestle with the other Miqo'te in the Scions from time to time.