Wiflor enjoyed the peace of that time after their all too careless of an endeavor under the sheets.  The gentle warmth of his touch as his fingers gently crossed her fur, the tender sense of his presence by her side after such a long night, and the sound of yelling.  Suddenly woken by Atticus' shock she'd peek up a bit narrow minded of the situation, even a bit agitated after being thrown in here to begin with by the people that were working around Atticus himself.  She sought a cage to hide herself in.  She sought help.  Ultimately she was thrown in with her biggest temptation and all but made to cave in...<br/><br/>Though she also couldn't complain.  After a moment of staring at Atticus she'd settle back down and rest her head against Cyrus, listening as they conversed with thought on what they were saying.  It wasn't the easiest way but she was slowly developing her vocabulary one word at a time with the passing of the days.  Simply by hearing what they were saying and doing alike until she pieced one thing together or another.  Right now however the words completely escaped her.<br/><br/>Sadly enough, some humanoid mannerisms or not she didn't exactly bother to cover up the 'shame' of that night.  Indeed it was just a natural thing for her and because of that natural tendency she saw no reason to feel ashamed about it.  Not that humans ever made htings quiet that easy...