If she was reluctant to let go, it was no less than his own. He kept her tucked against him while her hand explored his face. The feel of her fingers over his stubble tickled, and he could not help but pull a face in response. The sensations told him it was real, and he did not know if he was supposed to laugh or cry.
Not being given to crying, he knew he would laugh eventually. It was bubbling up within him the more time he spent with his former best friend who was former no longer. It felt as if a weight he had not known that pressed down on his heart was suddenly lifted and he was lighter than air. It felt like seven cups in to Andoralis, when he started dancing even though he could not keep straight in his head which foot was left and which foot was right.
Bombarded by questions from the normally laconic Imenry, Brennan just tossed his head back and let loose the laugh that was building. He did not care who was there to hear or see, because his world was focused on just the two of them again. It was like coming home. Her words of caution did not fall on completely deaf ears, but he would process it later once the elation had passed.
"Yes, yes." He agreed easily, pushing her out to arm's length to get a good look at her, "Why, Imp, I think you've gone skinny! Pining away for want of me?" Her bath could wait, although he was not going to argue that she did not need it, "I could pick you up and carry you off." That said, he hefted her up - with some exertion - and spun the both of them around quickly. At the end of the turn, he let her down, and just looked at her. Gods it was good to see her again. He let his eyes drink in every detail and every change.