Then, in an unusual move coming from Kaizuul, he finds himself reaching out to Pres with compassion and the need to push aside his own fears. He places a delicate hand between Pres’s ears and runs his fingers through his soft fur, gently smoothing it in a comforting gesture.
Silky smooth as the breeze, Kaizuul’s hand strokes through his fur and his own suspicions settle. But the moment hardly lasts, suddenly, the even tempo falters and he pulls his hand away almost too quickly.
Kaizuul breaks his gaze and looks back out over the ocean.
“I-… Sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me… It felt right for a moment there and…”
“If I know anything, it’s this…”
Pres is me.