Sleeping Dragon Shackles around my wrists

She sat patiently nearby, and nodded at his question. Cirrus watched her carefully and she spoke with an unusual voice, one which rasped at the air with a grating yet pleasing quality. It was nice to hear sounds in his prison, for usually the silence of the cave was shattered only by his own movements. With her instructions mind, Cirrus lowered his head to nudge the willow once, before taking it in his mouth and chewing it a couple of times until it was broken enough to ingest. It didn’t occur to him it would be anything other than what she said – a painkiller.
 
Once he had the bitter tasting thing washed down his throat, Cirrus hesitated. She seemed quiet and calm. It stilled his nerves, which were almost constantly on edge these days. After a few careful seconds, the slight and skinny wolf seated himself on the ground a pace from her. Usually not one to speak first, her own lack of speech caused Cirrus to boldly venture a question: “Do you have a sister?”
 
An unusual question, unless you resided in Cirrus’s current state of mind.