She makes him feel... something.

Resting his head on this thing his prize called a 'pillow', he closed his eyes and let out a pleased groan as it gave slightly under his weight, but supported him comfortably. A moment later, the large fur above him shifted slightly, and he felt his prize slide in next to him. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer. He did not know why though, only that it felt right to do so. Letting out another sigh, he cleared his throat. "Grok like this," he mused aloud, turning his head slightly to look at her head on his shoulder. "Prize make Grok feel... Grok not know," he confessed, scratching his neck. "No saying in Grok speak for how Grok feel now."

Lifting her head, Zoria tucked some hair behind her ear and sighed. "In Zoria speak," she said, "Zoria think what Grok feeling is... 'content'."

"'Content'," he parroted, scratching his chin, before nodding sagely. "Grok like that. What mean?"

She took in a deep breath and pursed her lips in thought. "Content mean... that Grok... be happy, if life no change. Grok need no new loot, need no more wine, need no more food, no want high rank. Grok have enough, and no need more."

His brow furrowed and his lip tightened. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he thought. 'Content' went against everything he was taught and believed in, but he liked how it made him feel, and feeling her hand rest on his chest, he realized that he wouldn't be feeling like this if she hadn't done her best to heal him. And then something occurred to him.

When he left to raid that day, he had felt that something was wrong. At first he considered it to be nothing more than anticipation for the coming carnage, but as he trotted further and further away, it kept gnawing at him, to the point where he broke away from the party and ran all the way back. When he got to the gates, and one of the leader's prizes told him what Hrew had done, his vision went completely red. The next thing he knew, was that Hrew was dead at his feet, and that his prize was back at his tent. She was special to him, and he did not want to lose her.

She made him... 'Content'.

The next growl that he made was menacing, as the thought of someone taking her from him made him angry, and he clenched his fingers tightly. But the soft sharp hiss of pain next to him made him let go. Looking down, he saw that she was looking back up at him, afraid. Cupping her face with his other hand, he stroked it softly. "Grok sorry, prize. Grok no mean hurt."

Covering the back of his massive hand with hers, she gave him a tired smile. "It okay. Zoria know."

They laid quietly together for a while, listening to the crackling of the dying fire outside, and huddling in a little closer as the night's chill started to creep over them, until Zoria whispered so softly, like she couldn't believe that she was the one speaking, "Grok, can... can Zoria ask if Grok will let her do something with him?"

There was a long tense pause, where all that could be heard was his deep contemplative breaths. She was afraid that he had fallen asleep, and that she wouldn't be able to work up the courage to ask him again, when he swallowed loudly. "Yes," he replied, just as softly. "Grok give permission. What prize... what Zoria want?"