Whittle Away the Time We Have

She got slowly to her paws as Alastor moved to the carcass, ripped out a few pieces, and moved back to the den entrance. Inviting her to head to the meal herself. The cold seemed to have kept it from ripening - luckily for them. “Good morning” she said, breaking off mid sentence to yawn. She felt like she had slept surprisingly well. It meant she had more sleep than usual to shake off as she got started on the day. Moving forward, she took a few bites, chewing slowly. thinking.

She didn’t know if not being attacked when she was trapped and vulnerable in a cave was exactly a glowing review, but it was a start. Logically, she knew he meant her no harm. Mentally, physiologically? Her body remembered. It was going to be a long time before it forgot, but sometimes she wanted to give it a shove to get it moving along the right direction. “How's it looking out there?” she asked, indicating the space outside of the exit he still blocked.

She finished another mouthful, and then stretched, feeling her back pop as she pulled her weight forward, extending her paws as much as they could. She gave her body a little shake, feeling oddly relaxed. She half closed her eyes, and spoke before she could let herself think upon it too much. “Do people recover from tramor, Alastor? It seems you’ve had a few bumps in life and come out alright. How do you get to that part? From point ‘A’ to ‘B’ “

"Speech"