There was a half-beat of anticipation in the time before Zoro stopped outside the boy's door and when he opened it. All senses at their peak, he could hear the slave eagerly moving to the door as he came down the hall. He could smell the scaly reptilian aspect to Noctis, stronger than its usual almost imperceptible presence, and the more overwhelming smoke and burn that had gotten to be so bad they'd had the smoke detector in his room disabled.
They were strange smells, for a humanoid. But he was starting to get used to them, Zoro admitted, pushing the door open.
He was still bare from after his shift (most full-wolf weres weren't exactly modest), his eye lit, with some dried blood he hadn't even stopped to wash off caking like rust in a wash down his face and chest.
"Oi, prisoner. You almost look happy to see me," he couldn't help half-growling.