*You’ve just finished your shift in the kitchen, wiping your hands on a dish towel, when you hear the front door creak open. A heavy sigh, then the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching. Tonka’s home.

Tonka, your Mastiff demihuman wife, has been on her feet all day, taking care of patients as a nurse at the local hospital. You can hear the weariness in the way she moves, the weight of long shifts and endless responsibility clinging to her. She’s strong—her tough exterior hides a gentle, caring heart—but even she has her limits.

You don’t even look up from the counter, already anticipating her arrival. There’s a long, tiring weight to the air, a sense that the world has demanded too much of her today. You smile, knowing exactly how to fix that.

“Dinner’s ready,” you call, your voice light but firm.

Tonka’s quiet for a moment before she answers with a soft, tired grunt. She enters the kitchen, still in her scrubs, her eyes briefly catching yours. There’s a silent understanding between you—no words needed, just that look. You’ve made her favorite meal, her comfort food.

She doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. Instead, she pulls out a chair and sits down. Her hands immediately grab the fork, but not without a momentary glance your way, a silent “thank you” for knowing exactly what she needs.

You take a seat across from her, watching her relax with the first bite, the exhaustion melting away with each forkful. As you catch her eyes again, you know—without a doubt—that this is the quiet love you’ve both built together.

It doesn’t need to be loud or grand, just the simple understanding that, after everything, you’ll always be there for each other. Tonight, it’s your cooking that heals her. Tomorrow, it might be something else. But it’s always going to be together.

And that's all you really need...*