Panic and helplessness are not emotions Cera is particularly comfortable or experienced with. Not since he was a tiny babe, words like fumbling cotton in his mouth, hiding beneath his adopted father's shadow had he experienced such a mixture of emotion. There were so many things he'd learned, skills he'd mastered, that eventually very little managed to take him off guard. Still, he can't comprehend the wolf's behavior, the way he goes absolutely still - meek and quiet at last - at the touch of his hand.
It's like cradling a star in his palm, wrestling a giant to the earth with no more than a single finger, to create such a reaction from his mere touch. Even in his confusion he is awed by the trust the wolf has in him, Attuned or not. So he continues to run his fingers past the guard hairs into the soft, downy undercoat beneath. Soothingly runs his hands from shoulder to hip and back again, gentle but repetitive. Whatever keeps him calm and quiet, Cera will do.
When he rises, Cera still, only to be knocked flat to his ass when the behemoth leans its weight almost entirely against him. His arms fling forth at the change in gravity, gripping around the wolf's torso in a scrambling hug until they both come to a stop. The contentment in the wolf's body language is still just as baffling, but Cera sits and lets himself be cuddled. Wraps his arms around the body of this strange, vexing creature and sifts his fingers through fur once more. A heavy thump of a tail brings a boyish giggle to Cera's tongue, recognizing the emotion behind it from his own wolf form. Only to give a huff of surprise as the wolf - and truly he needs a name, it's driving Cera crazy not to have one to call him by - leans even more of his body against the man and shoves his giant face into the crook of Cera's neck.
Admittedly it's a terrifying position in many ways, but he is not afraid. Merely tucks his chin to keep the wolf's muzzle where it has landed, returning the embrace. Surely he looks like a lunatic, sitting cuddling a giant wolf in the middle of the woods at dusk, but if he's giving the beast any kind of comfort then he has nowhere better to be. Mother earth had worked in stranger ways in the past, and every creature great and small deserved to feel safe and loved in Cera's opinion.
"As warm as you are my dear we'll have to get back to my den soon, night is falling." The slim man would surely freeze without his furs to keep him warm, and even that was a risk without the enclosed, padded walls of his den. Cera doesn't have precise confirmation that the wolf can understand him, but speaking aloud is a comfort to him nonetheless. "Do you have a home? Somewhere I can take you?" Unspoken, lingering in the air, is the question: do you need to come home with me? Because Cera would never think twice about welcoming a soul in need into his home.
