The scent of rot did not bother Wiflor.  In fact the scent of rot probably would of been just as bad of a thing as her hunger as so long as it was meat she could eat it.  Of course she did not like old meat, fresh always being the best.  But she also wasn't a hunter.  She didn't think to hunt creatures when she was hungry and sadly unless she killed something that was trying to kill her or others there would be no intent to bring harm.  Looking around she still was on the prowl for something to be had.<br/><br/>The conversation between Cyrus and Atticus escaped her as ever before and though she thought she heard her name about to be called it was not finished.  Surely they were just playing their little games as humans always found their way to do.  She could not blame them as she herself enjoyed her own games most often.  Looking back she would watch the two as they fumbled about, holding their nose as children offended by a bad smell.  She wondered why but figured maybe the smokey smell was bad, but it couldn't be right considering how often they set fires near the very place they slept.<br/><br/>By now even she was accustomed to it so surely that wasn't the case.  Still thinking of the matter however she'd see Cyrus pull his pack and with haste drag out a cut of meat.  Fleet of her own feet she would hurry to Cyrus the moment he even made a gesture of seeming about to offer it, snatching it up and tearing into it with hastes as his hand met with her hair.  It wasn't really her fault she liked eating considering how long such things tended to last.  Nearly as soon as she was done eating it was gone and left as energy and protein to be used up which always means she was left hungry again.<br/><br/>But she also wasn't picky.  Whether it was a table sized meal or a meal just as big as a small plate she was happy to be fed.  Of course the annual petting of her head, people saying her name, and ultimately just being treated nicely.  Even to this day, after so long of their travel she realized how much she missed it all... And with that she would do something she hadn't done in a long, long time.  She would speak.<br/><br/>"Wifo-....Haaaf~"<br/><br/>It seemed a mimicry of her own name to an extent but there was not provocation as to why she was made any noise at all.  Looking to Cyrus she'd just keep her smile which would broaden, happy even high in this dangerous tower.  A smile that would quickly fade as quickly as it was made.  A sudden movement would cause Wiflor's arm to fling, wrapping around Cyrus as she bolted to the side only to take Atticus with them.  Both being dragged by the cat several feet away as the area they were at became basked in a weak flame.<br/><br/>No kin of dragon to be seen yet till that moment, a single one wandering about randomly it seems in search of food.  Strangely hung to the ceiling with it's claws dug deep into stone and it's head staring at them with piercing eyes.  It would not give chase immediately and Wiflor would not fight back just yet.  Instead, as she stood near Atticus and Cyrus she would watch the unknown creature, trying to figure it out before taking a step forward towards it.  She wanted to know what it was and how it was able to spit fire like that.<br/><br/>The young dragon child would seem a bit dumbfounded by her approach like it was just some peculiar animal to be watched.  Likely the only reason it wouldn't attack immediately after it's first fire.