the hairbrush works smoothly through silky, freshly-conditioned silver locks, ex-knight having long since washed away dirt and picked the twigs and leaves from razor's hair and simply indulging in the act of grooming. as razor grows up, makes new friends and hones his survival skills in the wild, diluc feels as if he's seeing less and less of him--to help him integrate into society to the extent that he's comfortable, to see him thriving and loved and cared for was always the end goal of taking him in, but he hadn't expected the bittersweet ache of missing him even when he hasn't really gone anywhere.
but he can be content with these moments, the increasingly rare occasions when the two of them can simply sit and enjoy each other's company, if it means giving the young wolf room to grow and learn in his own right. hairbrush set aside, diluc begins to weave his fingers through razor's hair, carefully separating it into strands that he starts to manipulate into a loose braid.
" ...you're a good kid, razor, " dawn admits rather suddenly, leaning forward to press his nose into razor's crown, nuzzling him gently like his lupical might show affection. his voice is a bit morose, but certainly not without its sincerity, " i'm very proud of you, and i always will be. don't ever forget that. "
despite his usual silence and avoidance of humanity, razor was, at his core, a very tactile person. grooming was how he communicated with his lupical, the family not like him. he could understand them to some degree, not with human words but actions and sounds, but it always came back to touch. licking, nipping, bathing, even the way the pack slept together all held meaning. touching humans was different, it was hard to know exactly what a certain touch might mean. but he knows this.
diluc has always seemed to understand this, understand him in a way most other humans didn't. he's learned over time spent with the man, that it came from their general disposition; a desire for comfort with oneself, but also an innate need for connection. he's always found it hard to express himself with words, thankfully diluc required none of him. teacher was wonderful, kind and smart and pushed him to explore new things. but diluc? diluc nurtured the parts of razor that he couldn't change, and never made him feel bad for it. it's why he comes back. like a dog returning to the place it knows is home, time apart vanishes when he returns. diluc doesn't pry what he's gotten in to, where he went - razor will tell him, he doesn't mind. but he knows diluc doesn't expect it. wolfkin knows to expect a warm meal, a warmer bed, and a unique bonding he hasn't found elsewhere.
he could fall asleep like this, which is unlike a boy raised in the wilderness, always keeping one eye open. but diluc's hands are warm, the brush melodic almost. he feels safe. red eyes slot open when diluc speaks.
"proud," razor parrots, as he often does when trying to make sense of words he's heard. he's not sure what prompted diluc to tell him this, now of all times, but he likes how the word makes him feel. he doubts it would feel the same if someone else said it - it makes him feel warm because it is diluc who does, "i carry name, now," he turns to look at diluc behind him, hand curled with thumb out, so he can point it back at himself, "i am ragnvindr. i will always make proud, so i know i deserve it." // @piercingdarke