[It takes a few minutes for Hanna to get most of it out. He doesn't get hugs often, maybe one or two from Aerith, and the last he can remember at home is when he'd hugged Conrad after he'd revived following a punch to the face.

He sets back on his heels, pushing his glasses up to rub his sweater sleeve over his face, pretty sure he doesn't have kleenex in his cabin but maybe should think about getting some.]

Sorry if I just made a mess on your fur, hopefully that goes away when you shift...

[Attempting a smile despite the watery eyes he rubs at his head, ruffling those ears of his, that soft dopey face of a good boy.]

You make a good dog, John. Very cute.