The way she approached him was unexpected but not unwelcome. In fact, it made his blood run hot to see her approach in such a manner - relaxed almost, but always with her pride. He couldn't help but move to meet her, pressing his weight against her as she brushed by him. Their fur mingled, and their scent, and Kweku could not help but think that was the proper way of things. Even with winter abound, he thought more often of the Pharaoh than even Takita. He had tried to lead her back to Asteraia some time ago but she'd not been eager to follow, and so, he'd done his best to put her aside. Some days, he swore he could feel their alleged connection fading once more. As for Sekhmet, the Pharaoh? Well, he did not need to worry about that. If his thoughts roamed far from her, it took but a single inhale of Asteraia's air to remind him.
He might have cherished the time pressed against her for longer but she'd moved on, and he nipped at the air after her with a quiet growl. All in play, of course. Kweku had learned a long time ago that a woman like her need only get serious to put him into the dirt.
He glanced down at the boar as she asked about it and blinked. Ah, he'd practically forgotten about it. He shrugged as he took a step forward to nudge at it alongside her, though he was quick to move away as if not hungry. "It was strong," he asserted, "so I thought you might like to eat its strength." And, of course, because he had a most unfortunate habit of irritating her at times. But apologies were weak, and something Kweku had never truly learned to perform. So he had merely done what instinct told him was right - serve the pack, serve their leader. Serve the Pharaoh without rolling onto his back, without being weak.
He leaned back and stretched his legs, though in truth he had moved in such a way to emphasize just how strong he was too. Winter had thickened his course fur, adding to his size and he knew it. He stood tall, muscles relaxed as he hungrily ate up every inch of Sekhmet with his eyes. He reached out and gave the boar a rough nudge with his muzzle, shoving it closer to her with a mischievous grin. Challenging, almost. He had half the mind to grab it too, and to give her a little fight for it - perhaps they'd even rip it into two. If she seemed...to stay in her good mood, he'd do that in fact. If she took his words well, he'd take one end of the boar and give her a chance to take it from him.