Eliot grumbled at that anyway but didn't deny that he could use some meat. Licking his snout, he watched as Dean went to the fridge and retrieved a package. By that point he already got off the couch and started to limp over when he realized that Dean wasn't handing the steak to him.

No, in fact, he was putting it in to cook.

Stopping where he was, the wolf tilted its head and looked up at the man making him dinner. Ir wasn't necessary, but he appreciated the effort anyway when the soft sizzling and sound of cooking fat filled the small hotel room.

Hungry now, Eliot nudged a nose at Dean's leg then looked up at the bottle of water. Really, water was water, the important part was to make it available for drinking, and holding onto it high above his head wasn't helpful.