He laughs at the insult, wincing a second later as it pulls at the slowly healing cuts marring his cheek. He's not vain enough to worry about scars but he hopes they heal quickly, regardless of the finished state of them. "Bet you're just glad you're the prettiest outta the pair of us now." He jokes back, watching 'Gates with unwavering focus, his tail a heavy, pleased lash behind him. Mallory takes the offered food with surprising gentleness, though perhaps it's not quite so surprising considering who she belongs to. Never once has Thierry even so much as raised his voice around the hunter, why would his familiar act any differently, soul tied as they are.
"I got plenty of places to rest mon ami, I just prefer it here, near you." A shrug like it's not a big deal he doesn't return to his pack members, tiny in numbers they may be, when he's injured. Though his nonchalant act crumbles in the face of the invite, eyes wide and body still. He scents the air, trying to find any hint of deception even though he knows that Wingates wouldn't be that cruel. He's been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on the old hunter and now that it's happening he's stuck simply staring and trying not to whine in the back of his throat. It's Mallory who breaks him out of it, taking off from his shoulder in a flicker of pain and he's scrambling in after her before the other has the chance to realise his mistake and change his mind.
Thierry pauses just inside the door and breathes in deeply, his mate's (not yet, stop it) scent saturated through every last inch. He can taste it almost, a hint at the back of his tongue and he lets himself shiver, just once, before getting control of himself again. With the exception of his tail of course, that's a lost cause, thudding a constant rhythm against the frame of the still open door.
He seperated soul tucking into offal and he shares her simple joy for a moment, following instructions to move to the cot only to pause when it dawns on him that it's the only one. That if he sits on it, the next time 'Gates uses it he'll carry a tiny shred of Thierry's scent along with him. Voirloup has to stop himself from rolling around in the sheets, perching primly on the edge instead. One hand strokes along the blankets, a subtle enough scenting. He thinks he deserves some brownie points for only allowing himself that much. He hasn't spoken since stepping inside and the silence is odd for him but he's overwhelmed and injured, using near everything he has in white knuckling his instincts down. He allowed himself the smallest of slips by arriving at the ward line but he'll not push his luck.
A hum at the question, gaze still set on his maybe mate, "They're both dead." His letter had mentioned one, not two and it hadn't been a lie at the time. Bad intel. Still, the question proves he actually read the letter and didn't just tear it up which causes something warm to flare up inside his chest, right where that second beat sounded.
Approach with food and he's purring loud, a habit he picked up from his mother and aunt who have always favoured the feline shapes. Free hand twitches as if he's about to reach out, caught before he can and curling it into a fist in an attempt to remove the temptation. He doesn't want to overstep and fuck up, be kicked out or yelled at. He doesn't think he'd be able to shrug it off today, not in the state he's in right now. Feels like he'd do something ridiculous like burst into tears and he's not giving Wingates that sort of ammo against him when he's too fragile to take the hit. The gruff words are still enough to make him smile, soft and hidden as he dips his head. Familiar, a balm on frayed nerves, to hear him grouching at the voirloup, like he's a nuisance instead of something to be feared.
"I missed you." He offers up out of nowhere, reaching for the sandwich with one hand and taking a bite as to not say anything else. Glances around as he chews, letting Wingates eat himself without being stared at. Empty but cosy, almost the exact same as he'd imagined, though the bracelet, the gift hanging pride and place is a surprise. So sure he was that it had been tossed. He hides his smile behind break and meat, shows teeth in a bite rather than the goofy grin that's threatening to appear.
