bawling beasts lay down

As enraged as the knowledge made him, Inosuke knew that he had been bested. There was no other way to interpret the current situation: on his back before the enemy, at his mercy, head on his lap waiting for the final blow. And yet, the man had not gored his throat as his boar brethren would upon victory. Instead, the tips of calloused fingers were rubbing against his temples in a way that felt too soft to be torture. His outer clothing, the man's best protection against the elements, he had shed to cover Inosuke. Even now, he spoke of shelter and procuring food, his lap a warm, sturdy cushion for Inosuke's aching head. (if Tanjiro met Inosuke on the snowy mountain side, just before the events of the canon story)