When the voice first echoed through his mind, he turned his head sharply, away from her, ears flicking back, as if someone had called his name from that direction. Then he stopped and looked back at her, ears rising halfway up. Those blue eyes were all too intelligent, and when it clicked, you could see it. He recognized her voice, now, as the one that had told him to run from the police station.
He had to backtrack to remember what she'd said. Or thought, rather. Not being well enough to qualify as a good meal underlined the fact that she might be sick. He ignored the scratching behind the ear (or tried to - it was very nice) and tried thinking back at her. "I don't eat people," he thought, a simple but important point to get across, he felt.