[He misses that flinch, too intent on his chest, but draws his eyes back up to his when he speaks again. Sad, fox eyes. But even sad fox eyes roll at the comment, but not in an unkind way, and he says gently but firm:]

'Cause I like you, idiot, and just because I got scars under all my fur doesn't mean I think it's fine for you or anyone else to have them!

[But his hand on his makes him huff one more breath and he relents. Right now doesn't have to be the time for this, not when he came here with a particular intention in mind, plus he can tell they aren't too terrible of wounds, if numerous, so he won't feel bad about continuing on.

He leans down to butt his forehead against his, much like the earlier chest rubbing move he did earlier, saying:]

Fine.