Sneaky man. He could whisper gibberish in her ear and she'd still lean into him as she does. Difficult to concentrate on what he's saying when his voice is so deep against her ear, just the hint of something scruffy to it. Always reminding her of a wolf, he is.

But there's something to what he says, a curiosity. There's a question in her eyes, hovering on her tongue when she meets his gaze. If the dragons are dead, how can they speak?

No time to ask it, can only think it, because he's kissing her again. She reaches up to cup his cheek, tightening her arm around his neck, momentarily forgetting what they were speaking of. She'd have to relearn the softness of his lips, the taste of him on her tongue, the noises he makes when her fingers dance along his body. One step at a time.

"I don't have a room yet." A little slow, dazed as she blinks a few times and looks up at him again. "The innkeeper agreed to let me stay if I brought some meat back."