[Once he's leaned in close there is no fighting the urge to nuzzle against Ali's mop of black hair, pressing his nose into it. That smoky smell, a bit bonfire and bit brimstone... Concord breaths it in. He missed Ali letting him get so close,]
Your fingers have always made the best comb for it, Ali. [he sounds a bit muffled, buried in the dragon's hair still, whoops. From his tone, he's definitely smiling a bit smugly,]
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Your fingers have always made the best comb for it, Ali. [he sounds a bit muffled, buried in the dragon's hair still, whoops. From his tone, he's definitely smiling a bit smugly,]