so seek the wolf in thyself

[lupusintus]

WHO: (lupusintus) & Various
WHAT: Ethan's werewolf rampage, the morning after
WHERE: One of the parking garages and the streets surrounding it, Welcome Diner
WHEN: Near the end of November (Full moon is the 27th)
WARNINGS: Violence, gore, animal attacks, talk of murder

Comments

CLOSED} Dorian Gray

[lupusintus]

[ That time again, the moment when he finds himself standing outside of the parking garage, silently hoping that things will continue to fall into place as they have since he arrived. He has dodged a bullet twice now, having been able to keep himself away from the other residents with the help of luck and one Dorian Gray. Complacency is not in his nature so, with a growing sense of unease, Ethan crosses the threshold and takes a bit more time to survey his surroundings, right down to the small chunk taken out of the wall from the chair he destroyed last time.

It could very easily have been a person instead.

A part of him knows that hiding this is a detriment not only to himself but to anyone who encounters him. When the moon reaches its peak he is a slave to it, unable to discern between a friendly face and a foe. The man known as Ethan Chandler ceases to exist, buried deep in the consciousness of a beast who hungers for blood and carnage. He has seen the aftermath; he knows exactly what can and will go wrong if even the smallest detail is overlooked.

So, why take the risk?

Even though he has accepted what he is, he still believes the burden should be his alone. Pulling others into his curse, knowing they could die, is something he is unwilling to do. Ever since the curse was bestowed upon him, he has fought blindly and alone, struggling to make sense of the blackouts and bodies that had begun to pile up. Since the haunted house, Sembene has been a constant companion in his mind, as well as his last words.

My friend, Ethan Chandler.

If he was truly a friend to Sembene, then he never would have left the house that evening, knowing what the outcome would be. Someone was going to die that night; it could have been any one of them, but it was him. Swearing creatively, he turns his attention towards the little strips of sunlight that shine through into the garage as the sun sets, lifting a hand so they spread across his palm. As the sun sets lower, and they begin to disappear, he wordlessly mouths a prayer, then a single word: ]

Please.

[playing_human]

[Dorian has accepted that this is a calculated risk at best. In the worst-case scenario, nobody dies permanently, not even Ethan. There is still no need to be totally reckless. There is no chair this time, as it would serve no purpose but to give the wolf a weapon immediately. The only thing that's really going wrong right now is that they're running late, even though Dorian planned to run a little late. It's meant to give an excuse for the sloppy knotwork. Unfortunately, they're running quite late, and Dorian can only hope he has time to get away.

He unslings the rope from his shoulder.]

Don't worry. Sit against the grate.

[It'll be fine. He'll see.]

[lupusintus]

Telling me not to worry about this is like telling me not to breathe, Dorian.

[ Ethan even gives him an incredulous look, how can he not worry when the price for one misstep could be countless lives? The werewolf has lost a considerable amount of his strength here, but he is as tenacious as Ethan is stubborn, so a series of continuous attacks could be detrimental to anyone. It's quickly becoming apparent to him that the moon is creeping into position faster than he would like. ]

We don't have time for reassurances, you need to get out of here before I turn.

[ He sits so quickly that his back hits the grate roughly, though it doesn't seem to faze him much. As dutifully as before, he raises his hands up and waits for him to secure the ropes, his attention diverted from Dorian's handiwork to the sky. With each second, he feels his unease grow. ]

[playing_human]

I know. [Directed at that last statement as Dorian kneels and quickly works the ropes around one of Ethan's wrists. He's cut it way too close. Oh well. He's never been mauled by a werewolf before, so if he can't run fast enough, at least it will be interesting.

Was this a bad idea? This was probably a bad idea. No point in dwelling on it, though. He moves to the second wrist, the first tied just a little too loosely.]

[lupusintus]

We waited too long. If you don't hurry, you won't make it out of here before the moon reaches its peak.

[ Just as before, he flexes his arm to test the durability of the ropes before a sickening realization sets in; the rope is loose. Far too loose. Ethan is about to reprimand Dorian for it before something dawns on him -- the late arrival, the rope being too loose despite him knowing damn well that he knows how to tie an expert knot.

Was this intentional? He jerks his head to look up at him, the anxiety more than evident. ]

Dorian. What are you doing?

[playing_human]

[Nothing about Dorian's expression changes, even though he's been caught now. He continues to tie the other wrist, if for no other reason but to give himself time to get away.]

You don't have to be afraid, Ethan. Nobody will die, not truly.

[He leans in and kisses him on the forehead.]

You'll see.

OPEN} Werewolf Rampage

[lupusintus]

[ Any residents that pass by the garage will be treated to a growl that, thanks to the fact that he just tore off the muzzle, reverberates off the walls and carries outward. While it may just sound like a ferocious dog, anyone who follows it will be met with the sight of a man's silhouette -- perhaps a familiar one, to those who know him.

After shedding his bindings and making his way out of the garage, Ethan just stands there for a moment, yellow eyes darting across buildings and greenery alike wildly, looking for someone rather than something. The werewolf is not particular about who or what whets his appetite if there is blood, as there always is. His demeanor is a far cry from what it usually is, this night is sure to be full of violence.

A scent catches in his nostrils and he bares his teeth, the elongated canines illuminated by the moonlight as a low growl rumbles free from his throat. He could smell them, though not as strongly as he had been able to before. The growl grows louder as he flexes his claws and takes off in the direction of the scent though, once he reaches an open area, his pace slows and he stalks after what is sure to be his next victim.

Should he find them? The only thing that signals his arrival is a snarl as he straightens up and shows them his teeth, though they are hardly his only weapon. His fingernails are discolored but sharpened to points that are sure to cause havoc should they meet flesh. ]

( ooc; Werewolf Ethan aka Brian shh it's not his canon name looks like this )

Hob is in over his head, as usual

[100more]

[ Hob was out doing some shopping and was just on his way home when he got that prickly feeling up the back of his neck. It's not as if this city is as dangerous as certain streets at home after dark, but there's an unpredictability about it one must remain cautious for.

His device, which he was skimming during his walk is tucked into his pocket and he looks around, only to look in the direction of a snarl and see pointed teeth gleaming in the darkness. ]

Oh.. hello.

[ Is that a dog? Too big. A man? How can that be? Hob takes a few nervous steps backward. ]

Hob, don't talk to werewolves..

[lupusintus]

[ Thankfully for Hob, he doesn't pounce immediately but circles him, making a show of the fact that he is sizing him up as he slips out of the cloak of darkness. A feral dog would be a fine description of what currently stalks him, though seemingly trapped in the form of a 6'3" man with excessive fur and curious lack of speech.

There is no reasoning with it, no way to bargain.

When he takes a step back Ethan growls at him and steps forward, matching every step. Slow, steady movements, Hob, unless he wishes to agitate him further. It wouldn't take much at this point as he isn't stalking him for a meal, merely for sport. ]

( ooc; If you don't want him to get hurt, Vanessa can step in and save him at any time. She's the only one he won't attack. )

[100more]

[ A feral dog would be one thing, but one as large as a man, even if he's dressed like one, is a lot more terrifying. This is the first time Hob has encountered anything like this since he's been here. Somehow, Ethan is more threatening than the things he saw at the Haunted House. Maybe because it's not something out of his past or his imagination; it's more real. Real enough to kill him, he's starting to think.

As Ethan stalks around him, Hob tries to keep his distance, also turning in a circle to fix his eyes upon the threat. When he speaks, it's with clear nervousness in his voice. This is not the same thing as a bar brawl or even being at war. Hob has never encountered this kind of enemy before, but he's got to try and stay calm. ]

I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to insist you stop that now and be a good boy.

[ Appealing to both sides is the way to go, right? ]

HOB. I'm wheezing

[lupusintus]

[ Piercing yellow eyes trail after him though he does give an almost imperceptible tilt of his head when Hob continues to attempt to talk himself out of the situation. In response to his words, Ethan lunges forward a step and opens his mouth as wide as he can to snarl viciously at him. Despite the attempt to diffuse the situation, him not running away is actually working against him.

Now he sees a threat, someone who is unfazed by the predator that he is, and the werewolf is none too pleased about it.

This time when he steps forward he doesn't stop, picking up the pace as he closes the distance and flexes his claws. Unlike the previous lunge that was only meant to test his resolve, the next one serves but one purpose -- to inflict injury. If he doesn't flee now, the arm that lashes out for its prize is bound to hits its mark; Hob's torso. The hunt has begun and he is eager to see it through to its bloody conclusion. ]

[100more]

[ Isn't running from a predatory animal the wrong thing to do? Maybe not in this case. It doesn't look as if Ethan is going to back down. In fact, Hob can see a charge is coming.

Ethan is fast. Faster than a normal man like Hob, most likely. Hob leaps back, but is scratched along his torso, cutting his shirt with three claw marks with blood underneath. Any closer and Ethan might have gutted him completely. In response to the attack, Hob swings his shopping bag. Has Ethan ever been bashed over the head by a tote full of tangerines? He just might be.

After the attempt at defending himself, Hob drops the bag, turns, and makes a run for it down the street. ]

Fucking hell!

[ That's kind of like a cry for help. ]

[nichocolatine]

[ badou's first thought is: oh shit, there are animals here now?

his second is: oh shit there are animals here now.

though, hm, he'd hard-pressed to call what he's currently looking at an animal... too beast-like to be anything but a monster, though he has to admit he's grown a lot more hesitant to use that word as of late. if nothing else, the thing he sees is every kind of red flag he's ever known, and then some, and somehow he still hasn't thought to turn tail and get the fuck outta dodge.

that's fear, for ya.

last time something like this happened, he'd made the mistake of running. running ever only equates to a game when it comes to a predator, and the last thing badou wants to do now is appear appealing.

slowly, he lifts his hands. palms out, a universal gesture for surrender. ]

Would it make any difference at all if I said I probably don't taste very good?

[lupusintus]

[ The pair of bright yellow eyes follow him carefully, though the fact that he didn't immediately flee works in his favor for the time being. If Badou thinks the placating gesture is going to satisfy him, however, he is sadly mistaken. The movement causes him to hunch down somewhat, primed for an attack, lips curling to expose more of the razor-sharp pair of canines to his newfound companion. All it will take it the slightest bit of movement for him to launch himself at him but, for the time being, he paces around the red-haired man.

The fear is palpable, it might as well be a dinner bell for him.

Despite the fact that he only communicates through various growls and snarls, the intent is more than obvious. The taste of him makes no difference, he isn't a food critic and has no intention of eating Badou. He just wants to rip him apart and dye the streets of the city red with his blood and other gore. This werewolf is a simple creature, craving little more than violence on the one evening a month he is allowed to roam freely. ]

[nichocolatine]

[ the raised hands do nothing, but that's to be expected. this makes it — what? the fourth time he's come face-to-canines with someone since he'd arrived here? he has got to stop making this a habit somehow. ]

I get the feeling you're pissed.

[ hungry, more like, but even badou can't quite bring himself to say it out loud. as if putting voice to it sets it in stone, somehow. he makes a slow show of lowering his hands, slower even than the steady circling of the beast. his hands slip into his pockets. ]

Maybe we can talk it out — you ever hear of psychodynamic therapy?

[ both hands come upon metal. in one, a cap is flipped open, and in the other a screen is tapped on. from here on it's all muscle memory: the slow drag of a thumb along a spark wheel, the sliding of the other thumb along a smooth screen to navigate its apps. contacts. favorites. it starts to ring, and he wonders if this monster of a man has got any enhanced hearing. ]

[lupusintus]

[ What a perceptive one-eyed man.

The movement, slow as it might be, still causes him to follow his hands with his eyes, lips curling in a silent warning. Move again and there will be blood, Badou. As soon as he stops tapping away at the screen, those bright yellow eyes flick back up to rest on his face before shifting to the other object in his hand. He should have attacked by now but it's almost like he is soaking up the man's unease, toying with him.

Did he really think the lighter was going to distract him? Fire would hurt, sure, but it's not silver.

When the dial tone catches in his ears the game changes. While it might be a familiar sound to Ethan normally, it's a constant, irritating hum for the werewolf, something he is just as eager to stifle as he is the vocal human before him. He stops pacing and, without warning, lunges toward him with a vicious snarl that few have heard and lived to tell about. Not just claws this time, he's all teeth as he aims to throw his entire weight into the man and clamp those teeth down into the junction between his neck and shoulder. ]

[deathoftheauthor]

( There's a prickling at the back of Louis' neck before it happens; he can sense something wrong in the air, but when he stops beneath the flood of light from a streetlamp, he can hear nothing, see nothing unusual. Down the street, an electric sign for a 24-hour diner flickers, briefly dies, then returns to life. He turns slowly, looking around him, feeling eerily sure that something is looking back.

But nothing happens, and at last, with a frustrated sigh, Louis pulls out his phone to send a message to Lestat. I'm on my way home from the subway station. Will you meet me? I have a strange feeling.

He turns in the direction of their apartment, his steps quick and quiet. He resists the urge to look over his shoulder, feeling foolish and skittish for wanting to — and then, quite suddenly, he hears a snarl.

Louis turns, and there in the shadows is a beast of a kind he's never seen before. How had it gotten so close without his noticing? Fear runs like ice water down his spine; he gasps, and catches the creature's sharp, feral scent… and beneath it, something vaguely familiar that he doesn't have time to place. What is it you're supposed to do with animals — stay calm, or try to seem large and intimidating? He can't remember…

He takes two slow steps back, and then turns on his heel and runs. His eyes scan the streets for any buildings he can scale to lose the thing, but he doesn't have the strength he should; he might not make it. Heart pounding in his ears, so loud that he can't make out the distance of the creature's steps behind him, he races for the brick wall of an empty apartment building and makes his leap for a second-floor balcony railing. )

[lupusintus]

[ And something is.

Had he looked over his shoulder, he would have noticed the beast had been following him for nearly a block and a half, having just abandoned his attack on some other poor, unfortunate soul. Seeming to learn from his previous mistake, he lunges the second Louis takes the first step back, slipping from the shadows faster than a normal man ever could.

It's the mixture of the speed, and perhaps Louis' own dulled senses, that allow a clawed hand to seize him by the ankle and halt his escape. He uses the momentum to whirl around and toss him in the direction of the wall of that same building. Whether he hits it or not, Ethan is back on him in a flash, that same hand flexing so he can swipe at his neck with those dark, razor-sharp claws.

From this angle he will be able to see that even though the creature that stalks him this evening is humanoid in shape, and wearing a familiar set of clothing in fact, his features are very much bestial. Bright yellow eyes are narrowed and reflect little more than rage, practically daring him to fight back, his elongated teeth illuminated by the moonlight that set him loose on this land to begin with. As if to announce it to the entire City, he tips his head down and promptly snarls in the other man's direction. ]

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis' back hits the building with enough force to crack the bricks beneath. Stunned and grimacing with pain, he slides down the wall, crumbling dust stuck to the shoulders of his wool coat. He barely recovers in time to see the swipe coming; the claws miss his throat, but shred the sweater and shirt just beneath, leaving faint lines across his chest that ooze thin red lines of blood. The wounds aren't deep, but the claws tangling in his clothes make it impossible for him to get away in time.

The snarl sends an ice-cold chill of pure instinctive fear straight down his spine. Some distant part of him recognizes the features in front of him as familiar, but his present mind knows nothing but danger and the urgent need to fight or flee or lose his life. An image comes to him, sudden and unbidden and crystal-clear: mortal Lestat in the dark, snow-covered woods, alone, facing down a snarling pack of wolves. Conviction.

With a growl of his own, Louis slams his head forward, aiming for a headbutt that would make Lestat proud, and a hard close-range punch to the jaw. If he can't flee, he'll at least try to make an impression. )

[lupusintus]

[ The headbutt strikes true, causing his head to snap backward just in time to save Louis from an imminent attack by those canines, as he had every intention of biting him when he got close enough. Instead, while in the midst of recovery, he is blindsided yet again by a punch that causes him to stagger back and release Louis' shirtfront. It should spare him a few precious seconds to put some distance between them, should he choose to.

Ethan will feel it in the morning but right now all the wolf is feeling is anger. This is the first person that has fought back against him rather than flee. It should tell him to flee but rational went out the window the second the moon rose to its peak position in the sky. So, once he has recovered, he glares in Louis' direction as a low growl rumbles free of his throat. Whatever challenge this is? He accepts it and intends to subdue him in any way possible, nothing will be fair about this fight.

With that in mind he descends on him again, fingers bent slightly to allow him better traction to dig his claws deeper into flesh when he does finally swipe at him again. He's made an impression on the werewolf, that's for certain. The previous attacks were random and frenzied, now he seems to be specifically targeting vital areas that could cripple a normal prey animal. ]

CLOSED} Daniel LaRusso

[lupusintus]

[ When Ethan comes to the following morning, the first thing that registers is the immense pain that seems to radiate from his head to his toes, something he struggles to gasp against as he rolls over and surveys the scene around him. Graveyard. This is the second time he has ended up here after a transformation, but the first time he has been covered in so much gore. The blood does not belong to him, not all of it, and the bits of cloth and hair stuck to his nails paint a gruesome picture. ]

Please, no. Please.

[ Barely above a whisper, wide eyes continue to search the area for the source of the carnage. No one is here, only him. Only him? Accompanied by a sudden wave of nausea, some of the events of the evening begin to flood back in waves; Dorian leaving the ropes too loose, him shouting at him to get out of the garage before he lost himself completely. Frantically, Ethan reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces his phone, texting the man so quickly that the text is almost illegible. He hurts too bad to care, all he needs now is some kind of reply. Anything.

But it never comes.

Two minutes, five minutes – nothing. Without warning, he drops the phone as his hands begin to tremble. More clearly than he could see Dorian, he sees Vanessa. Not a memory of a time before here, but here, staring up into the face of the werewolf. Not his face. The clarity of the memory is remarkable, as if the wolf and the man have temporarily become one. The hand on his face, the way her eyes searched for a glimmer of recognition. They found it and, at least this time, he did not turn away in shame and run from her.

Where was she?

Just as he had done with Dorian, he sends her a message, then a second. Nothing but silence, he waits for well over half an hour. He would never hurt her, he knows that, but that does not ease his mind in the slightest. Did he do something? It takes another half an hour for him to finally stumble to his feet and begin the journey out of the graveyard, with his intention begin to get to their apartments to find them. Dorian would be at his own apartment, but Vanessa moves around, making it much harder to locate her easily.

Ethan does not make it as far as he wanted to, stopping briefly when he notices the Welcome Diner come into view. Part of him wants to turn around and walk in the opposite direction but he can feel his body giving out and the adrenaline starting to subside. Pride has no place here; he needs to get to someone before he ends up lying in the street somewhere. He needs to tell someone what happened, to warn other people so that it never happens again, to find Vanessa and Dorian. So, without much in the way of warning, he pushes the door open and takes exactly one step forward before sinking down to his knees. Caked in dirt and blood, he probably makes for a dreadful sight, but all he can do is sit there shaking. Finally: ]

Oh, God. What have I done?

[miyagimagic]

[ Do strange things sometimes just happen, even at the Welcome Diner? Sure.

Not that it means Daniel is prepared for this. For any of this, really. Maybe someone stumbling into the diner relatively early in the morning when Daniel himself has only just shown up, busying himself with setting things up for when some of the volunteers and maybe some people who just want to have some food might come in.. That wouldn't be so strange.

It's a little stranger when they're covered in different kinds of grime, though, and even more so when it looks like they're having a panic attack right on Daniel's diner floor.

But despite being utterly unprepared - the surprise seizes hold of Daniel, his eyes growing wide, dropping the glass he was holding to clean and accidentally letting it break into tiny pieces on the floor behind the bar - it doesn't take too long for the man to act. Daniel is always better at acting than at thinking in emergency situations, and within a few steps across the diner (while thankfully managing to not step in any of the glass pieces he dropped back there) he's already at the kneeling man's side. ]

Hey. Hey.

[ At first he doesn't even recognize who this is underneath all the blood and dirt, but now Daniel is a little more up close, squatting on the ground to be on a more even level with the form, he realises who it is. It's someone he knows.

But why the hell is Ethan looking like absolute sh--

Okay, no time to think about that. Not right now. ]

Ethan. [ No 'mister Chandler'-ing here when you're shaking on his diner floor, buddy!! (Or, you know, when you threatened to hurt him twice--) ] What's wrong?

[lupusintus]

[ Hey. Hey.

Ethan hears him but doesn't answer immediately, instead his wide eyes dart to the left and to the right of him as he tries to collect himself and his thoughts. Memories are flooding back faster than he can process them, his heartbeat pounding so loudly in his ears that it drowns out anything else. Even the familiarity of the Diner is lost on him, he's looking around like a stranger. The only thing he can see clearly is Vanessa's face in his mind. She wouldn't have left him there willingly, not after learning his secret.

Composure, he needs to find it. If he doesn't, he'll never be able to tell anyone what happened. He has to. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to take slower breaths, to slow his heart rate and to break out of the panicked fog that looms over him like a shadow. Rampages aren't new for him, it's the shock of not knowing who he hurt coupled with the fact that he can't find Vanessa or Dorian that haunts him the most.

Ethan.

When he opens his eyes, he's looking into the face of Daniel LaRusso -- a rational man, for certain, and a man he trusts. Thank God. It takes another minute or so before he catches his breath and straightens up as best he can, taking a moment to look Daniel over for any sign of injury. Nothing. It isn't his blood on his hands. With a shaky exhale that more than displays the relief that he feels: ]

Mr. LaRusso.

[ It's a short-lived respite, as he quickly struggles to sift through his coat pocket to grab his phone but drops it because his hands are still trembling. Damn it. He balls up a fist and drives it into the ground, slumping forward in the process. Realizing that if he doesn't get this out now, as he might not be able to do so before the exhaustion kicks in, he lifts his head and stares up at Daniel, eyes wet with tears that stubbornly refuse to fall.

In the next moment, he shows him his hands. The palms are peppered with angry crescent-shaped wounds from his claws the previous night. Stuck to them are strands of hair that are too long to be his own, along with more dirt and gore. God, his throat feels dry. Still, he manages to croak out: ]

Something happened. The wolf-- [ His lips tremble, so he presses them into a thin line to mask the emotion threatening to spill out before continuing. ] I think I killed someone.

[miyagimagic]

[ Maybe the thing Ethan is saying here shouldn't be so surprising. The other is sitting on the floor of Daniel's diner while covered in blood, after all. There's generally only two options as to why someone would be covered in blood, and Ethan is just mentioning one of them out loud.

But it's still-- god, it's so much. This entire situation is so much. Daniel can feel it threatening to overwhelm him on the spot, especially when he also looks at Ethan. Truly looks at him. Seeing the wounds on the other, seeing the way the man almost looks like he's crying. He may have seen the other in distress before, but it was always angry distress, never anything like this.

(Not to mention that wolf remark. Jesus Christ, was Ethan a werewolf this entire time? Is that what this is?!)

Daniel forces down the overwhelming flood of emotion. He can unpack that later. You know, sometime when Ethan isn't looking like a wreck in dire need of help. Daniel shoves it all down, focusing on doing what he does best in an emergency situation - which is act. ]

Alright. [ He sure is taking some deep, deep breaths here. Focus, Daniel. ] Alright, I need you to help me out here. You're too big for me to move by myself, so I need you to get up on your feet, and then you can lean on me so we can move you to sit down on that chair over there, alright?

[ Regardless of whether there's any protest on Ethan's end or not about the thing he just said that Daniel isn't exactly addressing out loud, he'll shush the other, adding: ]

I'm first going to make sure you're alright. Then we can move on to everything else.

[lupusintus]

No. I need you to hear this, please.

[ The fact that Ethan doesn't protest when Daniel offers him help should speak volumes; he needs it. There is a reason he chose to come to the Welcome Diner whether he realizes it or not, he was desperate to see a face that wouldn't judge him before hearing what he had to say. Anyone else would see a man in his state and either run away immediately or call for the law. Daniel would hear him out before making a decision, whatever it would be. ]

Ever since my arrival, I've been looking for ways to protect them from what I am. [ He does hear Daniel this time, at least, so he pushes himself up into a crouched position so he can try to get to his feet. ] In a parking garage.. [ He nearly collapses against him on the final heave but steadies himself with a hiss of pain, rising to his feet. ] I've been binding myself there with ropes to keep the monster at bay every full moon.

[ It was never a question; he was never going to out Dorian, not even when he realized what the other man was doing. Why? He blames himself for putting Dorian in that position, for forcing him to tangle with a creature who would just as quickly devour him without a second thought. The werewolf lives for the hunt and only the hunt, caring for little more than wreaking havoc and tearing lives apart. He shows him one of his hands again, lifting his sleeve to reveal a rope burn. The other wrist doesn't have one as he was able to free the hand before his transformation. ]

The ropes were too loose, and I escaped last night. I was careless and people got hurt.

[ He leans against Daniel slightly but it's obvious he's purposely trying to keep most of his weight off of him. Try as he might, even though some of it has dried, there might be some blood transfer. It's another reason he is stubbornly trying to do this on his own. ] When I change, I can't recall what I've done or who I've encountered. When the wolf takes over, it's like I disappear until the sun rises. I used to think I was going mad because I'd wake up like this without knowing why.

There's no reasoning with what I am when I change. I didn't want-- [ He looks off to the side, his voice quiet: ] I thought if I kept myself away from everyone that I wouldn't pull them into the darkness with me, that I could protect them. [ When he closes his eyes again, one of those stubborn tears finally fall. ] Forgive me.