"That would not be remiss." He murmurs, sagging into Gene's bulk, feathers twitching a bit before he goes liquid at that soothing touch. He needed that tactile confirmation of affection, ever uncertain of this. Of his place. It never seemed quite real to him, how they were. He has been braced since the first day for something he has done or said to simply be not enough; and is gratified to find that that wasn't the case. They are fine. Even with this odd twist of disassociation, they would be fine.