The older of the pair leaned against Nora's smooth palm, the soft skin pressed against the beginnings of stubble - the youngly-turned Godric having never hit his prime before immortality was flung upon him. "You do not have to save him alone this time... I cannot move on until you are both happy, safe. Resurrection is a fickle thing." Leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his progeny's forehead, Godric withdrew. "But you must rest. The sun is coming up."