Sleeping Dragon death doesn't descriminate between the sinners and the saints

She’d so far pinned him down, nearly choked him, and had his leg broken. He was unsure how to feel. He could accept he had been trespassing (his bear story had fallen down like a den of sticks in a storm) but the aggressive tribe of wolves seemed to have taken the usual punishments one step further. He was now cooped up in a cave with a potential murderer.
 
He didn’t see her eyes because he didn’t dare look at them. The change in her demeanour was obvious enough, however. The echoes of the growl still lingering, this alpha changed tack, and suddenly answered his question.
 
Cirrus looked up from her paws in surprise, to catch the smirk and the slightest glimpse of her softer expression. She had an unusual way with her words, as though she wasn’t quite sure of what she was saying. Cirrus certainly didn’t think she knew what she was saying, because why would she let him go? He supposed all he could do was serve her and hope for eventual retribution. It was something to strive for at least.
 
Also, fixing him was a great goal but it would take weeks before he was going to be any use at all! He didn’t want to say this in case she changed her mind and slashed his throat. “Okay…” Cirrus started meekly, hovering between vomiting and screaming from the pain. It was clouding his vision. “How long…?” He sensibly , gazing at her cheek with tears swimming in his eyes. How long will I be your prisoner? Lowest of the low.