Little Goat Mountain baby, if you like it

She was smart enough to not question what he'd said about the firing sticks. The fact that she believed him at all was impressive- he'd been more prepared to have others think him a madman for suggesting such things existed, and he felt both gratified and validated when she'd not questioned him at all. She'd probably seen some things, he figured, to take him at his word. Then again, perhaps he should have spotted more red flags about her, too- the fact that she was pregnant and all alone could have indicated perhaps that she'd made some decisions in her life that'd led her to a point where she could barely even hunt for herself. 

He felt he needed little reason to offer her food; it would have weighed too heavily on his conscience to leave her by herself to potentially starve. He felt that might come as a blow to her self-esteem and sense of independence, so he simply scooted a bit closer- just close enough to touch the nearest part of the goat with a paw. "I get to eat too," He said. "Otherwise: I need a purpose." He said with a shrug. This felt like a pretty big task to take on- which would keep him both busy and focused. He lived for that.