After the Reverend Mother had "blessed" Garrett along with the mage and the Templar, he had padded back to sit near Bethen's side, a warm, tall presence of comfort, much the role Alderic was playing - only he did it in a fur coat, and from the floor. It pained Garrett to see a woman cry; it had always been his weakness, a girl in sorrow, and he gave a quiet rumbling of worry at the sight of the wetness on Bethen's cheeks, which likely did nothing for how the other Templars stared at him. Still, it seemed to be more of a happy fit of tears than a sorrowful one -
- especially given that Bethen gave an "Oh, Alderic" that sounded straight out of one of Lissa's romance stories and flung herself at the man, her hands well up over her head and the tips of her toes barely scraping the ground. The wolf, who had paced along as they wandered the naze of the church, at this sat down, flicked his fluffy tail across his toes, and perked his ears while tilting his head, making a deep "Hrrrmmm?" noise well back in his throat. If he had had eyebrows in such a shape, one of them would have been cocked at this extremely un-Bethenish display.
Still, he let his tongue loll in a canine grin after a moment, as if encouraging them to go on with the show. Silly true-men and their courtship rituals.