Iris, face buried and burning, muttered something completely incoherent into Quinlan, something that sounded suspiciously like a threat of violence toward painters, princesses, and possibly the entire human race.
Quinlan looked down at the top of her head, utterly disarmed.
This woman was unpredictable, impossible, and unfairly adorable all at once.
He rested his hand on her hair, patting it gently a few times before stroking it.
Her growl softened… very slightly.
Or perhaps not at all. Quinlan had to note that she was a lot less receptive to headpats than Blossom when she started pouting because he implied that she is akin to a dog, which was something that Blossom did not like to hear one bit, often bringing up the fact that he is in love with his dog.
But after a few good headpats, her tail would once again begin wagging with brimming energy.
Truly, those were the qualities of the one and only bestest girl.
