I could never be anything but who I am, as I imagine many in this world might say. [Oh, he had met people in his time who could switch personalities and roles as easily as one might change an undershirt. If they were really to discuss it, they all were like that, shifting from warrior to mender to friend to support all in the blink of an eye, but those fingers drifting down through his hair turned his thoughts to other places, and the flush across his cheeks deepened further.]

[The interesting push-pull in him that both wanted the touch to continue and wanted to ask her to stop intensified in those moments. They had agreed upon inspection of his ears; the hair had gone without request, and though, unarguably, it felt nice, soothing, he could not help a faint tension across his shoulders at the unexpected. His ears twitched, uncertain, but he allowed the contact to continue.]

No worse for the wear, though I do appreciate your concern as always, my friend.