Oftentimes, he would tuck her under his wing. He allowed her to borrow his warmth as only baby dovah do.
During their meditations, her under his wing, her fingers curiously tracing his scales, her breath evening as his comfort lulled her to sleep… he forgot she wasn’t his dovah egg.
Joor felt love like the dov couldn’t. Joor loved in many ways, whereas the closest thing dov had to love was for their young.
Yet even if he couldn’t comprehend joor love… with the dovahkiin sleeping under his wing, he knew he felt it as intensely as any dovah could.