[Wing doesn't mind the, uh, strong hug. He's comforted by the touch as much as Drift is. ]

[And he had been so very alone here. It was more than he could express how good it felt simply not to be alone anymore.]

It is. [He allows himself to bury his head in Drift's shoulder for a moment, just taking him in through as many senses as possible: sight, touch, hearing, smell. ]

[He doesn't know what to say, where to begin. Right. Priorities.]

Are you well?