He could tell that she was wary of him. She had every right to be! his monstrous appearance was enough to scare even the bravest of souls away, so it was a wonder that her own imagination hadn't taken root and sent her fleeing away from his castle. But then he had to remind himself that it wasn't that easy for her; as if she was a bird and her wing was broken, she had no means of escape and survival. A bird could not survive without flight, so neither could she without her sight. His stomach seemed to sink at the thought, his own guilt settling in. She had no choice but to stay here, and to practically be forced into this situation by circumstances out of her control had to be gut-wrenching. She probably was having such trouble composing herself, trying to keep her fear and disgust from bubbling to the surface, to her scent. He didn't know if he could tolerate her remaining here without causing his stomach to turn in guilt.
But he was getting ahead of himself. 'She hasn't even asked to stay here, fool. Don't get your fur up in a bunch.' He snorted gently to himself and brought her to stand in front of one of the chairs in his parlor.
"I can hang up your cape to dry by the fire," he said, breaking their silence once more. Their conversations still felt awkward since their little stand-off, he wasn't sure if he was pressing her buttons or not and thus he treaded carefully. He took care to watch her expressions, looking for the slightly twinge of facial muscle to tell him to back down, but as it looked she seemed oddly content. He watched as she unhooked the soaked, aubergine colored cape and she offered it with an outstretched hand. Plucking the thing from her delicate hands, he draped it near the fireplace to get it drying. He tried to be careful, for his claws he knew could slice through most anything and he surely didn't wish to tatter her only belongings.
He had been so focused in his small task that he hadn't noticed that she was still standing. Eyes darting to the side, his velveteen ears perked as he noticed it. "You can sit, there's a chair behind you I assure you," he spoke, though he could see it in her face she wasn't all that pleased with him. However, she seemed to let her own angst pass and with that being said she sat her little self down and set her hands folded in her lap.
She wasn't particularly fond of being told what to do. She knew there was a chair there, she could feel its presence near where she stood not to mention her arm had gently brushed up against the back of it as she was led to her seat. She thought she was being polite, standing where she was, but apparently she could do away with at least some of the formalities she was accustomed to following back in her own house. Her gaze then softened a bit when she came to the realization that she was not home, safe, nor did she know where she was. The only thing that felt like a constant in her reality at this point in time was that storm, still going on outside. She could hear the heavy raindrops pattering loudly against the window panes, as if torrents of water were coming down to swallow the world whole. She was amazed the area wasn't ridden with a flood from the power of this storm. She wondered if the storm would pass by morning, or if the sky would be weighed down with rain for another few days. She sighed a little at her own thoughts, though the gesture was far from noticeable.
She heard him sit down in a chair eventually. She wasn't sure if he was right across from her or slightly off to the side, but he definitely had sat somewhere. She felt like she heard something of a great weight fall onto something, like a cushion. The sound of fabric rustling slightly when someone takes a seat upon it, only this sound was amplified. Her eyes snapped in the direction of the sound, of which she could make out the earthy color of her beastly captor. Or rather, in recent light of things, her savior? She reached behind her and pulled her hair free from the lavender ribbon that kept her wild locks in check, ringing her thick mop of hair free of most of the water though it'd have to dry the rest of the way on its own. It seemed to waste a good few moments of time before conversation had to yet again be struck.
"The storm is still quite bad out there, isn't it?" she asked, of which all she could notice from him was a nod in agreement. Or something along those lines, that is. He'd have to get accustomed to being more verbal, that was for sure. "Might I be able to stay here until it passes? I have a horse with some of my things standing outside, he could use some shelter as well..." she then said, though it was like pulling teeth from her. She was prideful, that was true. She had the notion that she had to be as independent as possible and asking for any help was like showing weakness. She didn't like to be thought of as weak, not at all. Thus why she wasn't all too happy with him assuring that there was a chair there for her.
His head turned slightly toward her at the question, those velvet ears perking again as he pondered the thought. "It would be cruel of me to send you away into the storm again. So yes, you may stay. As long as you like, even." His tone was even, being cordial as he could possibly be. He still felt tense around his strange guest, but that would be remedied the longer she chose to stay. "But you must tell me something first."
"And what is that?" she asked.
"How did you get to my grounds, where were you headed? And why were you alone?"