"Sit back and take some deep breaths. I think you will feel better after I heat you up some soup." He clunked a pot on the stove and rummaged in the icebox for a container filled with a liquidy stew.
I padded over to the Dragonfyre [stove] and knelt before it. With my practice of Dragon Speak firmly in my mind from before, I said, "Furor!" and focused the bulb of the heated dragon word over the metal mesh usually reserved for fire spells. My new [vibrissae] sense on my cheeks of distant shapes and textures, let me "touch" the the edges of the box-like area and feel the wires and metal tubes. It allowed me to center my aim.
"Hey! You need to rest. Don't bother doing that!"
Saying the dragon word a few times, turned the sponge bright red as the heat made the skin on my face tighten. He thumped the container on the granite sideboard; his arms went under mine, hefting me up.
"Excuse my touching, but really! I'm beginning to worry you'll hurt yourself further." He set me in my chair and Flash [the cat she just magically befriended] jumped into the newly created lap.
He was acting sweet, again. That word! People being somehow sweet made me go warm all over, and forget my new worry about being shy, and the residual tightness in my muscles from the agonizing part of using my gift. Having a human male care about me felt... I could only express the sentiment in Wolf Speak, so I smiled up at him.
He rolled his eyes and huffed like a wolf replying. He splatted the soup into the pot, which made a brief hiss from the heating it had undergone empty.
"No problem," I said.
"About what?" He stirred the soup.
"You're welcome to touch me."
He shook his head slightly. Soon he placed a green-striped earthenware bowl of chicken vegetable stew before me, which smelled of cabbage, carrots, squash, and parsnips, and of chicken. The fatty broth glistened in the deep spoon. He raised it and blew on it, before presenting it to me.
Across the room, Mother Wolf had taken notice of the delicious smell; I could tell by claw clicks as she approached. He was determined to see me rest.
His attention felt excessive. He had seen the scar grow on my arm from using my gift. Had that worried him badly? Did he feel responsible?
Nevertheless, I smiled as I shut my eyes and opened my mouth. It forced him to put his other hand under my chin as I slurped, touching me again.
"Oh, that's nice!" I said, leaving it vague as to whether it was the soup or his actions I referred to. I liked the velvety broth and the savory pepperiness of it, recognizing, sage, sweet forest herbs, and woody mushrooms mixed in—but human beasts flavored things with too much salt, I thought.
I opened my mouth again.
"You're working this," he murmured.