Things were okay, just as they were.  The collar she was given was in her mind a promise of a new life, and indeed she took it to heart as they sat before the open flame, the snow mostly blocked off.  Her arms wrapped around him, his arms holding around hers, the dance of the flame light was a show for the moment as time became endless.  Wiflor was happy, and indeed she was the happiest she had been in the longest time.  Even with how soaked he had ended up by melted snow she did not care to be gotten wet anew.<br/><br/>Was it wrong?  She actually asked that to herself for a moment, as if figuring out the situation on her own term.  But the answers always did escape, though in truth she also didn't have the mind to keep pressing for one specific answer.  Nothing at that moment was wrong other then the fact that Atticus was gone at the moment.  And that Cyrus wanted to get out of the hold?  After hanging onto him for so long she'd note his movement as he rose to his feet then patted her on the head, her eyes questioning why he wanted to go away.<br/><br/>Though the answer came rather quickly to that question at least as he went to gather a change of cloths, stripping himself down to the bare bones of his birthday suit and setting both himself and his wet gear by the fire.  But that brought a new question.  Why did he sit so far away?  Why didn't he come back to keep getting warmed up?  Or was he warm enough?<br/><br/>"Wi-....Co...Cold..."<br/><br/>It was at that moment she'd say something she hadn't before.  Cold.  perhaps it was something of her vocabulary that she knew before, or perhaps she had literally picked it up at that moment.  In the end one couldn't know however as they themselves had no chance of the answer coming from the tiger, her cyan eyes simply staring at the stark naked Cyrus, one of her ears quirking low as she waited to see his next actions to come now that they were stuck in this cave for the time.