[@Ace of flames01]

At first the wolf was hesitant, instinct told it to run or attack. 
But even though seeing Saoirse for the first time through the altered view of the wolfs eyes, Clay's recognition of her shape and smell overrode all insecurities. 
The wolf relaxed and it's nose twitched as he sniffed the meat in her hand, taking it as gently as possible. 

Clay heard and understood every word spoken but he would not come to terms or realise the content of her speech until the memories of the night came flooding back to him, with headaches and migraines, after the reverting transformation. 
Clay and the wolf were still two separate creatures, he had never learned to bridge that gap. While the wolf held the essentials and core of what made Clay who he is, there wasn't room for conscious critical thinking. Animal desire and instinct might have been guided by Clay's own, but the wolf was still very much wild.

Either picking up on Saoirse's sudden change of mood, the sorrow or simply wanting some more jerky. With silent steps the wolf moves forward and gently nudges and nuzzles her. A caring yet heavy paw drops down on her leg accidentally scratching through cloth and skin.
Upon realisation, an apologetic rough tongue appears and kisses-better/cleans the wound.