Cvekta softly smiled at his offers, her body eased slightly. Thank you, Cyrus, she said softly. She shifted against the stone, wincing at the movement of her injured paw. Healing would not be easy, that much has been made evident.

Cerulean eyes watched the distant sky, her body continuing to soak in the deep warmth from the sun. I don't have a lot to talk about, I think, she murmured, but perhaps that's the problem. Her memories being ousted so suddenly from her grasp, formulating conversations of interest and even keeping herself amused proved difficult.

A beat of silence. Cvetka moved her head over the stone towards the golden sire, keeping it placed comfortably against the rock. ...can you tell me about how you got here? She asked tentatively. Perhaps his backstory was as difficult to recall as hers was, whether it be from lack of recollection or from the desire not to remember.