Rook whined at the words as he tried to process what was being said to him. It was slow going, hard to understand the words of man when his mind was lost to the wolf as it was. He nuzzled Ash's cheek then gave a huff. It was the tone of Ash's voice more than anything that drew his thinking mind closer. That gentle, soft tone that the Toreador always spoke with. The one that could appartently sooth even a savage beast.
He was still nuzzling Ash's cheek when his body finally gave a shuddered and changed from wolf to man. When he did his face was buried in the crook of Ash's neck and his arms were around him, more to study Rook himself than the Toreador. He stayed like that as he tried to gather himself, to pull himself away from those last visages of the wolf that tried to cling to him now that he had revisited it.