Sorrel doesn't like to think of himself as someone who is, by nature, a hugger. If asked, he would prefer to imagine a somewhat rakish, lone-wolf sort, walking the forests with the same fearless confidence that he faces fade demons. The reality is a little more touch-starved, and when Adasse presses in around him, Sorrel can't help but return the gesture, just as tightly.

Alright, so perhaps he's a hugger. But only a little.

Shut up.

"I'm glad to hear it," He replies, meaning it to come out with the aforementioned confidence, and is chagrined when the sound that emerges from his mouth is caught awkwardly between a mumble and a whisper. Dammit, "I should go... see if Sina's woken up. She'll be glad too-- for the gifts, I mean. And maybe that I've made a friend."

And so too, indeed, must all good things come to an end. Sorrel lets go.