Genesis clicks his tongue, and gently shifts the applin in his lap to place it down by his feet with the others. The tiny wyrmling barely stirs, rustling its apple shell a moment, then going right back to sleep.

"Now, now. As I recall, I never said I wanted to fight you. You assumed as much," Genesis teases, waiting for Angeal to settle before he scoots closer, and rests his head against his mate's shoulder. With his hands free again, he slides one along Angeal's wrist, and down to his palm to twine their fingers together.

"But yes, they're tired. They've been... 'hard at work' so to say. They've been helping me with something very important."