[were he to accidentally scratch her with his claws, she wouldn't mind it. theirs is a relationship of walking a tightrope, and for her it's one between feeling comfort at his hands but also the dull but ever present spike of adrenaline whenever his claws move close to her face and neck.

in response to his delicate touch, cradling her head in one paw so large he could crush her if he wanted, water rhythmically falling across her fur in a pleasant and mindful manner, she closes her eyes happily (and in a way that conveys utmost trust), and her hand comes up to rest against his. she leans into his touch, knowing full well the way he's holding her is intentionally light and careful.

she's not careful. and, humming slightly, she smiles, opening her eyes to look at him once the water moves down and away from the top of her head.]

Mmhmm, it's just right. [it's less hot than the water she had sprayed him with, thanks to the time spent running, but it works in her favour. rabbit skin and fur is a lot more sensitive and thin compared to a wolf.] I wonder how warm the baths are going to be.

[and in her usual, playful-yet-morbid way.]

Hopefully hot enough, but not where it'll turn me to rabbit soup.