She'd notice that Cyrus would act after the word she had spoken.  Moving closer and closer only to put his arm around her rather then her struggle to hold around him.  It was an interesting thing as she looked up at him, trying to figure out why only to feel left under his care.  Was this the promise of the new life?  Was this the promise he had made the moment he gave her the collar?  Wiflor wondered before closing her eyes, settling a bit closer to Cyrus and easing herself into the security of another.<br/><br/>In the end she didn't see herself as stronger nor weaker then anyone else.  She could be frightened, she could be bold, she could be courageous and she could need that security all in the same.  Because in the end she was still human.  So to speak...  Even being the one held however she radiated warmth, the winter coat having come in since their travel to the tower being more then thick enough to provide and retain with the softest of the fur being the clean white coat of her belly.  For Wiflor, she was more then warm enough.  But to be held was something entirely new...Even the scholar had restrained themselves from doing so simply as they always saw Wiflor as too strong to be delicate.<br/><br/>Though they had yet to move off to the bed Wiflor was already following such a fashion, remaining still with him till he acted again.  The gentle touch of the fingers behind her ears would cause a shiver of her fur that carried from head to toe till it calmed again, another sound to come.  A purring like lull that sounded just a bit rough in her tone yet equally soft for what was it's intention.  Comfort, joy, safety, it was all there.   All overwhelming for her very spirit.  Overwhelming as her eyes opened one last time, looking up again to keep her gaze on his own, unsure what he was speaking but not caring either.  The hand behind her ears would ease her once more, her eyes slowly closing again as she stayed still all over again with the same lulling purr.<br/><br/>She had no words to share.  In a way she had a thousand words to be spoken and yet not one she could offer, nor would she offer them even if she could.  Even if they could converse she just enjoyed the sound of the snow beating down on the rocks outside, the cackle of the flame, the sounds of a small creature that had found refuge in the cave as well in one of the smaller chambers, the sound of the heartbeats and running of the water deep under the stone floor, and sound of their trusted mule that had come with the wagon well at rest already by the deposit of treasure.  These noises were already deafening so what silence there was simply ended up golden.  Not that she could hold any complaint of his voice.