If Vrenille was going to hurt him, he had every chance to do it already. It wasn't as if he had the energy or strength anymore to fight back if he needed to, but it was honestly still terrifying to have this complete stranger know what he was and be here in his home when he was at his weakest. It was all the ingredients that could have led to him being taken in by the Ministry and possibly killed on sight for what he was. Everyone 'knew' how werewolves were. Violent, nasty killers. Nothing more. Damn it, Greyback.

"Don't go too far," came the murmur from Remus. "Just.. give me a little while. Figure out... where to go from then." It made sense in his mind. Just a few hours, enough to get his strength back, then they could make a plan to handle getting Vrenille back to his home in-- wherever it was. Some part of South America or Africa, as far as the logic of his brain could compute given the concept of 'jungles' being there.

He didn't, at that point, so much as go to sleep as completely pass out, very still but clearly breathing on the cot. The shack around them was a fairly simple design, just enough to keep out the howling wind and rain, with the cot, a small table with a tankard of water neatly capped, and a small bag on the floor that must have been Remus'.