Cvetka listened to his words in a comfortable silence. Her body was at ease, her gaze floating around their surroundings. His words confirmed what she'd already observed—Elysium was a hospitable group, both in their words and their actions.

The lackadaisical drift of her regard fixed back onto Cyrus at his question, however.

'Do you plan on staying here long?' The wolfdog tilted her head. 'You probably should, at least until you have fully healed.'

She lowered her head. He was right. She probably should—to walk across a small clearing was debilitating without the use of one of her limbs. A solitary living in such a state was little more than a death wish.

Yet, the last thing she desired was to be a burden to the pack who'd welcomed her so graciously. Nervous, she shuffled her position and took in a soft breath.

...if I am welcome. I would like to stay until I've healed. She mumbled softly, her gaze lowering to the ground at the base of the rock. As he gave her the food, she grinned, dipping her head to take up his offer and consume the meat she'd been graciously given.