Godric felt satisfied that she did not lash out at him in anyway, she she responded but he was not sure about that. If she could not yet, then she was young, and that made this complicated. He knew she was young to begin with, but he expected more. And now the chance of pregnancy seemed slim. He had seen wolves carry at a young age, under one, but it had not been pretty. At this point, he didn't really care, and if she could not carry he had no problems breaking her down until she could. He would just have to wait longer. Or perhaps he could find someone else but he already had her in his grasps. He had done this much work but he knew there was a lot more to come. She was feisty and she would give him trouble but he would do it.
"You're going to need to," he said, growling, as she took in the meat. He pulled a slice off for him and chewed, and another for her. "I couldn't tell you what sets it off, but for your own safety, you might want to work on it," he told her, his lips curling up. He would make her shift if he had to, beat her until she did, make sure she lived in pain. He had no idea what set wolves and coyotes off to be able to shift, as if it were a switch in their body. It naturally happened to him and he was a few months shy of a year. He had not been able to go into battle until he could.
He pushed the meat toward her a little so she could get it. "You'll live in torture until you do," he said, his voice raising and he lifted himself a little to make sure he was hovering over her threateningly. His golden eyes stared down at her, his patience running loose in a matter of seconds.