Although her tears had slowed and she was no longer sobbing, Sabine's nose was still blocked and her face was still strained and red from crying. She swallowed and turned to look at the space in front of herself. "Because I like him a lot, but..." Sabine's mind was a maelstrom of the different reasons that she wanted to stop liking Peiter. It was hard to pick one out. "...he almost died...or, he and I could have been captured, and then what happened to Fendros and Ahnasha - or to Ciinriel - could happen to us." Sabine brought the heel of her hand to her eye and sniffed, "I do not want to feel that pain. It still haunts them, I see it. I do not feel safe liking him. I'm...scared of what might happen to one of us, but...I keep getting close to him. I have been trying to...delay things. I cannot keep doing that." Sabine held her eyes shut. "It hurts. I don't want to like him any more."

Tzirret broke into a quiet, dry, staccato laugh. "Tzirret thinks that even one who is not lycan or Khajiit could smell Sabine on your hides." Tzirret took another breath, "You also held hands at breakfast." With realisation, Tzirret's smile lowered slightly and his tone became a little apprehensive, "Wait, Khajiit is not mistaken? When Bretons hold hands, is it for affection, yes?"