The grip between the two was different. Certainly it was familiar, and Gwen sunk into the warmth, ducking her head. Externally she looked fine, except for her frequent need to slip out of consciousness once and awhile. Internally, though, was anyone's guess. It wasn't anything fatal, though.

She opened her eyes and tilted her head to the side, against his chest, to look up at her husband, and awkwardly patted him. "It's alright, honey." Paixao falling around them aside.