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She has heard from the local villagers that a large pack of wolves has been hanging around the area. She has decided to track them down to thin the numbers and encourage the rest to move elsewhere.
She keeps a number of eyes and ears out. One can hardly have too many of those in the wilds.
There's an acknowledging sound that doesn't sound entirely trusting of that, like it might be some sort of trap, and the tentacles slip away from the edge of the bag, mostly likely to return to the ball.
She puts the plate of food on the floor by the foot of the bed. She checks the latch on the door and slips into the tiny adjacent chamber to perform necessary activities before crawling under the sheets and shucking her outer clothes onto the floor. A tentacle sneaks out from under the sheets and folds the clothes neatly.
There's no response from the bag, not even a curious eye or tentacle.
At some point in the night, however, the cold will get the better of him, and (not entirely consciously), he migrates from the bag to being latched onto Zarân for warmth.
...Well that's adorable. Clearly this calls for cuddles. Getting out of bed can wait.
He's sleepy, and warm, and feels (almost) safe, snuggles against...
He manages to go rigid even as he retracts his tentacles to be more ball shaped. (He doesn't try to move, he's still not practiced at moving without legs.)
"M'sorry," he mumbles.
He's still, blinking at her in lost confusion. "Mhmm," he hums his agreement, but doesn't uncurl or move closer again.
He flinches a little away from the hand, obviously not used to that not being a potential threat. But when, after a moment, nothing happens, he shuffles closer again.
At some point she will need to get dressed and there will probably need to be breakfast.
She may need to encourage Squid to move so she can get dressed, he doesn't seem entirely inclined to move unprompted.
He scoots off her, a little quickly, with a muffled, half-panicked apology.
"No need to apologize, I'm not upset. I just need to get dressed is all."
She pulls her clothes on.
He stays a small ball, watching her a little suspiciously, wrapping a few tentacles around part of the bedframe in place of her.
She finishes getting dressed and goes to take care of personal hygiene matters in the next room. Then she comes back.
"I think it's time for breakfast, how about you?"
He blinks at her a little confused, and then curls tighter around the part of the bedframe he's latched onto. (He doesn't understand why she's being so nice.)
He hasn't moved, still a ball wrapped around part of the bedframe, although he blinks at her when she returns.
She sets about demolishing breakfast, while casually leaving some tempting food bits (sausage and bread with jam) by the edge of the tray.
Every so often, he will sneak a tentacle out to snaffle one of the bits she's left at the edge of the tray.
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