"Why?" he responded to her question. "Because it would be a set back if you died, and a bloody waste of my time. I said I wouldn't kill you, that includes not letting you just die." He set up the cook pot over the fire and threw in one of the hunks of meat he'd had saved back there for her. It sizzled on the heat, but Fenrir doubted he'd be able to cook it to her liking. He hadn't cooked anything in a very long time, probably the majority of his life at this point.
He poked at it with the fork, flipped it a few times, until it started to turn a brown color, then pulled the pot off of the flames and set it on the floor so it could cool, because it would have to serve for a bowl as well. "That will have to do," he said, pulling out a cigarette and leaning back into the wall to watch her eat.