An event that led to great amounts of adrenaline pumping followed immediately by a stretch of what was comparatively extreme calm tended to have an odd effect on a person, and Will was obviously no exception. He felt simultaneously drained and still full of the odd feeling of peace he’d been experiencing from the moment he finally drove a knife into Francis Dolarhyde’s flesh. This strange headspace probably had something to do with the fact that yet another low rumble of laughter escaped him even as he quite readily returned his friend’s embrace, finally releasing his grip on his sweater in favor of wrapping his own arms around Hannibal’s waist.
There was a time when this much physical contact with the older man would have left him visibly uncomfortable. He may not have actually shied away from the touch, but even when he allowed it, it was usually with a flinch or with a look of fear on his face of what might follow it. That had already started to change, but the embrace on the cliff side had certainly cemented that change.