[ Apparently the booze is doing enough to pave the way for more physical interactions than Tyler is used to. He's spent so many years not hugging people because he'd been so uncomfortable with his chest that now it's more habit than anything. His new chest is everything he's ever dreamed of, but the habit of old, of keeping himself physically closed off, is hard to shake at times.

He doesn't shift his hand off the elf's shoulder, even as he goes to pluck up his glass to toast. The chuckle at the humor is sincere, tickled. ]

To not having to make council porn.

[ Gulping down some more of the mead, eventually the curiosity gets the better of him. Though not without a caveat: ]

Tell me to fuck off if I ask something you're not okay with.

But... how wolf was your wolfman fiancé?