quiet concert (Patreon)

“You’re so talented,” I mumbled against his shirt, barely managing to open my eyes. “Should start a music channel…”

He hummed a laugh. “Wouldn’t be sayin’ that if you were sober.”

“Sure I would,” I protested.

He played a little more. I must have started to doze, because I was jostled awake as he shifted to rest the guitar on the floor, then sat back. It was too much effort to open my eyes, so I instead nuzzled more comfortably into his shoulder. He must have assumed I was still asleep, because I felt his muzzle rest against my hair between my horns and stay there for a long moment.

He murmured into my hair, “What am I gonna do with you, li’l bird?” but I was too tired to respond. Anyway, I didn’t think I was meant to.

***

I don't always write, but when I do, it's embarrassing microfiction about my dumb OCs and friends' OCs..................
Coyote belongs to justroadkill