Gobo's mouth pressed into a thin line and, almost imperceptibly so, his fingers tightened against each other. He had no idea of Wembley's feelings, or at least couldn't get a good enough read on them, and he knew that meant he was wembling about whether or not Wembley might actually have feelings for him, but this was difficult! Navigating romantic stuff wasn't anything he was even remotely good at.

As the mental tension rose his tail started beating against the ground, kicking up grass and flower petals, and jostling any rings that might've been threaded on it from before.