Mary
His shoulders lost some of its tension- her words were so.. Bewildering. What did she want? As she slowly moved, his eye watched, careful, as if stalking prey, or rather, his predator. As she took a comfortable position, he glanced toward the opening, ever patient in his plan to run away.

*Only* Talk? Maybe if he talked, she would go away and he could flee to... Somewhere. "I'm alright," He said, voice strained with tension, using her own words so not to add nor degrade to the 'conversation'. Perhaps she would now leave, now he gave a satisfactory answer. Yet with her persistence, it seemed unlikely. Besides- it wasn't not true, he was safe in the confinements of isolation, he was alright. He wasn't not these things, surely not.

He curled his tail closer to himself, away from the barrel. There was no use in hiding anymore.
Bette
*His short answer was evidently not satisfactory to her, she let out a sigh, frustrated more with herself than him, before saying,* "You are hiding, I do not know from what, someone or something, yourself or another. But, as a protector of our kingdom..." *She thought for a moment, and amended her statement,* "No, as a mother-to-be, I can not let a dragon as young as you struggle like this. You are hiding under a crate for Spirit's sake. I need you to look at me, look me in the eyes, and tell me. *Are you safe*?"

*Clearly, this was bothering her much more than she realized, her voice crack came out of nowhere for her, but the thought of leaving this dragonet, even as close to adulthood as he was, to suffer on the streets alone was, devastating for her, in a way she never would have even considered a possibility before meeting Gyrfalcon. Part of her imagined her own dragonet going through what she saw before her, and it broke her heart to see, as much of a figment of her imagination it was.*
Mary
He growled slightly, shifting further back as she spoke. Difficult, his father would've once called him. There was no use in thinking about him now, though. He hated how she spoke to him, as if he were in need of help, so much so it took time out of other's nights, and spent resources, such as the singular fish, without payment. It made him feel such *Guilt.* He was alright. He was fine. He *Is* Safe. He hadn't realised he was averting her eyes until she mentioned something. 

Looking into her eyes and mustering the courage, he sat up, back arching against the crate, slowly sliding until it stopped, it still against his back. Narrowing his eyes and practising his tongue to make the sounds, he spoke, rigid yet firm: "I am safe."

No more was requested, so no more was said. He felt his heart pelt against his chest, like the rare occasion of rain that usually developed into a hailstorm. Defiant in the act of saying what he felt, he shifted his right talons away of view, the scars would enact too many questions, many of which he was unwilling to answer.
Bette
*She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding, her instincts holding more sway over her than she imagined, but, hearing him break from his frightened state to speak up eased her thoughts,* "Good, hold your head up high, and do not feel like you can not ask for help, be it pride or feeling as if you are not worth it. My mate's home is nearby, ask for Gyrfalcon."

"I know I am not easy to trust, and that you may not want my help, but I will be here for you, if you ever do want it. You deserve to have a place to sleep comfortably, and to not have to go without eating. And if you need someone close to your own age to talk to, ask for Kittiwake," *She stood, a little slowly, she knew she barely got through to him, and that he was hiding something, but, she did what she could, and at least got some food in his belly. Pushing him more was bound to make him resent her, so she left it at that for now, perhaps time, and maybe getting him to talk to Kittiwake eventually, would help.*
Mary
He narrowed his eyes, suspicion clouding his vision. Turning himself in to others, relying on their intent and trust the bars of the prison home won't cage him forever. Yet there was little to fear, admittedly. If he did introduce himself- tail between his legs and unsure, undoubtedly- Snowstorm showed no evidence of recognition of him.

He repeated the name in his mind. *Gyrfalcon.* It always helped him remember, re-clarifying things. Another name in his head without a face, it was almost strange. Like the name on a letter. Something so personal, yet meaningless without an identity.

Deserve. Did he deserve it? She knew nothing of him, how could she know? And how isn't she confident he *Isn't* As good, to deserve it? *Kittiwake,* Another name he had to remember. He wasn't the best with names, so the practice of repeating, atleast in his head, had become common to him. He eyed her cautiously as she began to stand. Perhaps she was about to leave, and perhaps he didn't have to run.

Hesitant, he spoke up, this time without being urged by her. "Do you- are you-" He made an expression before restating his words. "Are you affiliated with the military?"
Bette
*His unprompted question made her stop mid-step, lying was bound to break what little trust she managed to build with him, but the revelation that he was talking to a general likely wouldn't go any better...* "I am, why do you ask?" *She nods, looking back, this time, she left him a path to get out, no longer cornering him, even her posture changed, not seeming to be ready to leap at a moment's notice.*