[Nadir is just dead weight now. 165 pounds of fox meat that Dirk drags up the bed. He doesn't even deign to open his eyes. But once at a pillow he moves his head on it and burrows both into it and Dirk's chest, seeking out the comfort of body warmth after such a hard session. He adds in an extra, grateful nuzzle when he feels an arm over him--yes, it's not holding him, but the weight is appreciated.]
no subject
I might sleep 12 hours...