Sleeping Dragon Shackles around my wrists

Granted, she hadn’t called him handsome, but she had definitely admitted she did not hate his looks. Cirrus mentally took note of how disgusting his fur was, and wondered whether perhaps he should try and clean it. It was the first time he had cared about his hygiene in weeks.

 

Lorne was correct about a good heart being more important than beauty. It was the goodness of her soul shining through her eyes that captured him, and gave him more will to live than anyone other than Heda did.

 

“Thank you. I’m - ” he almost spoke his true name, but luckily the beginning syllable was the same, so it simply sounded like a stutter “S-Storm.”

 

A light thump of his tail began on the floor, wagging carefully as he began to clutch to her goodness and hope that she might be his salvation. “When my leg has healed, I need to help the pack to win my freedom. Can you think of what is most needed?” Cirrus peered at her out of his brown eyes, his mind focusing on her and shedding its perpetual state of confusion and fear in the light of her kindness.