[ Trass does not obediently tolerate the care. He's not uncomfortable, but restless. His tail beats against Nina's legs, his front legs keep lifting up to be set on Matthias' knee or the bench. He keeps trying to surge forward, to lick, and once Matthias is done, he leans in, indulging his wolf, who proceeds to lick a stripe up and down the side of his face. Smiling at Nina, absently. ]
no subject
All right. Give him a minute.
[ Or more than a minute, goodness. ]