[Claude tends to carry a faint smell of warm spices and citrus, with leather notes, likely from the riding gear he's often seen in. He's still asleep, too, at least until her voice and breath tickle against the sensitive skin of his ear, and he cracks a green eye open. She feels... warm where she nuzzles him, drags her leg against his side, and it suffuses him with a soft, contented feeling that could send him right back to sleep again. He doesn't, though, at least not yet.]
You okay? [He says, drowsy, one hand drifting under the sheets to touch her foreleg.]
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You okay? [He says, drowsy, one hand drifting under the sheets to touch her foreleg.]