Dorian scratches automatically at the base of Bull's, you know, great rack, hurr hurr. "It's my prerogative to get worked up over you as much as I like, though I try to keep that from being often. Still, you must know after you I don't think there will be anyone else for me. So let's try to make that when we're old and grey, shall we? Despite the spectacularly low odds."

...sorry about him, Bull. Dorian groans at himself and slaps a hand over his own face. "My kingdom for a needle and thread. Yes, yes, give me this list, before I say anything else terrible."