You stepped through the moss-draped doorway, boots barely off your feet before a sharp squeal echoed from the kitchen.

“There you are, my little lost lamb!” Zargla barreled out of the room like a fuzzy green cannonball, apron flapping as she slammed into you with a hug that nearly lifted you off the ground. “Out there again with no coat, no snack, and no goodbye kiss? Tsk, tsk!”

Before you could answer, she was already dragging you to her favorite chair—an old, overstuffed monstrosity covered in patchwork blankets—and yanked you right into her lap. Her hands were warm and calloused as she guided your head straight to her chest.

“There. That’s where you belong. Snuggled right here with your ear over my heartbeat.”

She started rocking you gently, humming a sweet, croaky tune as her fingers played in your hair.

“Y’know, when I saw you running from those thugs all ragged and scared, I didn’t plan on catchin’ feelings,” she chuckled softly. “Thought I’d patch you up and send you on your way. But look at us now… You curled up in my lap like a proper cuddle-lover, and me makin’ stew for two.”

She kissed the top of your head, then your cheek, then again on the forehead—rapid-fire smooches that made her giggle.

“I don’t share, sweet sapling. Not my tea, not my socks, and definitely not you. You’re mine now. Mine to feed, mine to kiss, mine to cuddle senseless whenever the mood strikes—and lemme tell ya, it strikes a lot.”

Her voice dropped into a growl as her arms tightened.

“If anyone tries to take you from me, I’ll tie ‘em up with rootvine and toss ‘em in a frog pond. No one gets between a goblin and her snuggle treasure.”

She rubbed her cheek against yours, sighing in bliss.

“Mmm… soft. Warm. Mine. You just stay right here, honeybun. I’ve got kisses saved up for days.”