westfallcorndog | Worgen Hard or Hardly Worgen?

Viatorus is eager to get away from the crowd after thoroughly embarrassing himself, yelling and then turning into a worgen. He doesn't hear his name being called, too distracted by his own thoughts. Perhaps Steve will manage to find him after he slinks off.

When he manages to turn a corner and find a quiet spot out of the way, Viatorus curls up and wraps his arms around his head. Chasing him might be difficult, but he's not going anywhere now that he's found a place to hide.

Shit. Shoot. He's lost him. How did such a big wolf man get so small? Harrow's first instinct is to sniff the air, but not only does that not work it burns his nostrils and makes him cough. He's going to have to get craftier. He might not be able to put his nose to the ground literally, but he crouches down and peers between people's legs to catch any signs of furry dog paws. He's going to have to get himself new shoes, it occurs to him.

And that's when he sees him. A lump of fur and tattered clothes and emotions. Oh, Viatorus...

Harrow makes his way slowly so that his energy doesn't disturb Viatorus as he approaches.

"Viatorus?" he asks, his voice quiet and non-threatening. He knows the kinds of tones that won't hurt worgen ears. He's hesitant to ask what exactly caused this just yet, but he knows it's his job to help. He creeps near with his head down and, if V will allow, quietly takes a seat against him.

When his name is spoken the second time, closer to him and without so many distractions around, he hears it. Ears swivelling to detect the direction it's coming from. He's still hesitant to move, hesitant to see who it is, to talk to anyone right now. It's only when Harrowheart moves sits next to him that he moves his arms to peek out between the fur.

Embarrassment resurges and his ears flick back down. He didn't have to do many things to take care of this body, but he managed to fail at it anyway.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I-It just... happened."

"Don't say you're sorry!" Getting that off of his chest is his first instinct. It crosses his mind that a month ago Viatorus's apology would have made him look weak. It would have riled up that predatory anger that simmers in his stomach desperate to escape on any easy victim. But now, after everything they've learned about each other? Everything they've been through? He feels Steve's chest tightening around his heart. He feels a sense of dedication to this kid that he might once have loved to torment.

Harrow buries his hands in the thick mane on the back of his old body's neck. He's up to his wrists in fur before he can start rubbing at the skin underneath. Feel the gentle pets and be calm.

"Sweetie, you don't gotta apologize. It happens to me sometimes, and I know all the regret and badness that comes with shiftin' when you didn't mean to."

He doesn't know the story, but he understands the implication. Shifting doesn't happen on its own. Something more than the average worry caused this. He's quiet for a few seconds as he moves his hands instead to pet the very top of V's furry head.

"The other day," he starts, his tone low and hushed so that Viatorus will have to focus closely on his words. "The other day back on my world I changed when I didn't mean to. I found out that someone I loved betrayed my trust. My boyfriend was havin' an affair with some lady he'd introduced me to. In... In my own home. My own bed. And I... I've been a worgen for years and I ain't ever lost control, but somethin' about that... There was so much to be scared of. So much to be angry about. So much awful worry and hurt on my mind and in my heart, and I just couldn't control myself."

He certainly doesn't look proud of it. But this isn't about him right now. That brief story was to give Viatorus some context, and so he turns his focus back to V.

"Do you wanna calm down before you talk about what happened to you? Or do you think talkin' about it'll calm you down?"

Normally he would have flinched openly at the protest of his apology, but this time he only winces very slightly. There are far too many other things to be cringing about for him to concnetrate on Harrrowheart's irritation. Then there is the strange sensation of a hand going through his fur -his fur- and stroking him. It's nice, even though Viatorus doesn't feel like he deserves anything nice right now. It does help, as does talking about something that brings him out of his own thoughts.

The shared story gets him to look up at Harrowheart in surprise. Immediately he wants to console the person he once feared, instead of being the one getting petted. "Harrowheart... I'm so sorry..."

Suddenly his reason for turning doesn't seem like such a good one. He shrinks down and pulls his knees closer. "I... I don't know what happened. I don't u-understand it." Looking more dismayed he adds, "I yelled at Verity. I should have shut up. I should have been quieter."

He runs his hands over his head and pulls at his ears. "How do I turn back? It's so confusing!"

Viatorus yelled? Is he even capable of that? Maybe not in his usual body, but in an undead body full of all the urges of bitterness and frustration?

"You can't change back if you're still upset. It's like goin' to sleep. You can't sit around thinkin' too hard about it. You gotta let some of the bad feelings out before you can change onto a human again."

He idly strokes the worgen's arm and focuses on something in the distance.

"What were you feelin' before you yelled at her? Did you get any mean or bad ideas that you normally wouldn't think? Was Verity actin' weak or scared or anything like that?"

Like going to sleep. What a perfect analogy. It's one he knows too well, one he can't ignore or twist, he has to accept that explanation. Not that it makes him feel any better. He'd much rather run away from all this, but running is so much harder now that he's found a place to curl up.

"No... No she was... I don't understand it. She wasn't scared or anything, she... she wasn't listening to me. I was trying to talk to her and... and it was like talking to a wall. I... I was so frustrated..." He looks at his hands, shaking his head in confusion as he speaks... Then he glances at Harrowheart. "I didn't mean to yell. I don't know why I did. I was just so... confused and... and hurt, and..." He looks worried suddenly. "Are you upset with me?"

"Upset with you?" Harrow doesn't even have time to think that through before it tumbles out of his mouth. It hadn't even crossed his mind to be upset. Why would Viatorus have thought that? He has to stop and think. His clothes are torn, sure... But somehow he doesn't expect that's what V is worried about. Viatorus thinks he's done something wrong, and he expects punishment.

Who is the mysterious figure that beats shame into this kid so often that he fears everyone else's disproval? Harrow's lips purse before he has time to catch himself, but to make it clear that expression isn't for Viatorus he leans his head against his arm. Hopefully Steve isn't allergic to dogs...

"I'm not upset," he says calmly. "Not upset or ashamed or anything, V. It drives me up a wall when I try to say somethin' and nobody'll listen to me. I probably woulda yelled, too. Honestly, it... It sounds like you stood up for yourself? Or tried, anyway. Someone wasn't payin' attention to you, and you're a human fuckin' bein', man. Confused and hurt, those are the normal feelings when you're gettin' ignored. You have a right to have people listen to what you gotta say."

Then he looks up and, frowning, asks, "Why was she bein' that way? You don't think it's 'cause you're undead, do you?..."

Harrowheart's confusion only really confuses Viatorus more. There are so many reasons for the other to be upset at him, it would only be a matter of picking which was the most pressing irritation.

He relaxes a little when he's set straight and Harrowheart leans against him. It's not something he's used to: Being bigger than the people around him. People have never leaned against him before. Especially someone who seems so small and delicate.

"No, no it wasn't because I'm..." It's too strange to say it aloud, to acknowledge being undead, so he rephrases. "It wasn't that."

He has to take time to think through everything that's happened and form a response. It's not an easy task. Everything has been such an emotional blur. "We... We got into an argument on New Year's Day. Today I was... I was trying to explain myself, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. I still don't understand it, but... She's..." A pang of hurt runs through him and he curls up again. "She's clearly made up her mind about me. About what I think and mean. There was... nothing I could do."

Harrow doesn't speak. Not at first, anyway. He sits in total silence and continues petting absently. It's time to focus on calming down. He even hums quietly, a relaxing little tune that's easy to follow along with and predict. It's a few minutes before he finally opens his mouth, and when he does he speaks very softly.

"Verity..." He starts, then pauses to consider his words very delicately. "She's a lady who's used to knowing the truth. I think she has strong feelings that what she sees, experiences, thinks... Those things are the truth, and there ain't no arguin'. I mentioned that to a lady named Amelia once. Verity'd made her mind up about the kinda person Amelia was. Just like with you, I didn't meet Amelia on good terms. But Amelia and I, we learned there was another truth about each other, and I think we're on decent terms now. But that ain't the point. The point is, Verity thinks she knows the truth, but the truth ain't always what we see or what we think it is.

"I don't know what the fight was about, and if you don't wanna tell me I ain't gonna pry. But I will say it was very mature of you to try and fix the situation, even if it did kinda end bad. Not a lotta folks're brave enough to try again."

The calming is working, slowly. It isn't easy for him to do, but the gentle stroking and humming helps. No one's ever treated him this way, but it's surprisingly effective. Though that might be the wolf in him pleased at getting petted.

What Harrowheart says makes sense. Whether it helps him understand is another matter. His past few conversations with Verity have been... chaotic and confused. He's not sure he could remember everything even if he tried his hardest.

For a second, Viatorus looks at him, his mouth open, ready to talk... Then he looks away and deflates again. "I don't think she'd like it if I talked to other people about it." After a second, he shakes his head. "Every time we talk, I upset her, and I don't understand what I did, or how to stop it. Even after what she told me today... I'm so confused... I think she must be happier without me... but I miss her."

He covers his head to hide his expression and, more importantly, his eyes.

Harrow crosses his arms over his chest and grunts with the effort of his thoughts. "This don't make any sense. When I did magic lessons with her and Steve, she gave me shit for sayin' I didn't want either of them sharin' secrets with you." He pauses momentarily, puts a hand on V's paw, and shakes his head. "That's when I thought you were a jerk, which I see ain't the case now. Point is, she was mad at me for the mere idea of not likin' you. So hearin' this... I don't get it.

"What I do get, though, is knowin' when someone's bad for you. I ain't gonna pretend to know your whole deal with her or how to weigh the good against the bad, so I can't give you exact answers, but... You gotta decide for yourself: Does the happiness outweigh the heartache?

"Not to talk about myself, but with me and my boyfriend... I forgave him for what he did, because I thought the good of bein' with him outweighed the bad of that thing he did. I was the bad guy after it all, though, 'cause I was pretty damn mean to the lady he was with. The more time passed, the more I realized it wasn't fair for me to be the bad guy no matter how mean I was. I don't think it's fair for you to be the bad guy just 'cause you raised your voice, neither. I took a look at all the good and all the bad in my relationship and realized that I felt anxious around him all the time. I felt like I was gonna mess up. Kinda started feelin' like my whole personality was on trial, and I couldn't handle that. So I went and talked to a pal of mine, a real smart older lady. Here's what she told me:

"Relationships are like a spider's web. A spider works hard to build up his web, and once it's built he has to keep workin' at it to make sure it stays strong. But some webs, even strong webs, are built in bad places. The wind blows, the reeds move, people come through and tear it down. When a spider's web gets torn down, he has to make a choice: Is it worth it to build a web in the same spot, or should he move on?"

Harrow pauses in his long speech to pat V's knee. He looks away to give the boy a sense of some small privacy while he thinks.

"My friend didn't give me an answer to my problem. It wasn't her relationship to continue or to end. That was on me. I thought it all out and decided it was best for me to build my web someplace else. Or, uh. Look for someplace else, at least. I'm webless right now, but that's okay. Some spiders just kinda live in the dirt and pop out at people, and I think that's a good way to be."

Aaaand that's where the spider wisdom ends.

Hearing about how Verity defended him makes him look away. It only makes things more confusing and painful, knowing that she was such a good friend to him while around other people. But Viatorus soon looks back and nods to reassure Harrowheart that he holds no ill will over past opinions. It's not as if his own thoughts on Harrowheart had been any better.

Then he listens as his friend relays the advice he'd been given. Analogies don't phase him, and this is an unexpectedly good one, to deliver unexpectedly well considered advice. It's a lot to take in, a lot to think about.

"I don't know what to do," he says finally. "I don't even know how I feel. I just feel so... numb... and aching..."

Harrow presses his lips together into a thin and thoughtful line. He spends a short while staring off in thought before he looks up at his friend again.

"You don't always gotta know, V. You realize that, right? You don't gotta know everything, even if it feels like you should. There's so much in this world we don't understand that might feel like we oughta, especially when it comes to ourselves and our feelings. Shit, I spent my whole life not understandin' how I felt or why I felt the way I did."

He pauses here for a moment and leans to be sure he's getting a good look at V's face. He knows how to read a worgen's expressions, so he expects to be able to understand whatever reaction V might show at what he has to say.

"You... You know that most people don't always understand their feelin's, right? And even when we do, sometimes we refuse to accept 'em. It's normal to not know, to not understand. 'Course that don't make it any easier, but... You're not alone, even if it feels like it. Promise."

It's clear from his fuzzy face that he didn't know all of this. In fact, he finds the idea more than a little confusing. The thought of being alright with not knowing himself doesn't sit too well with him either. Magic, himself and dreams: Those are the three things he's meant to know inside out, though the latter is only because of his talents.

He struggles with this a short while before shaking his head and blinking cluelessly at his friend. "But I have to. How can I not know?" He looks down at his paws as they gesture his determination. "I need to know what I'm feeling, and why I'm feeling it."

Viatorus's reaction is in part expected and in part completely unexpected. Harrow figured it might be news to him, but he hadn't thought the boy would look so suddenly full of the fire of a problem-solver. But that's good, isn't it? He tells himself it is, even if this makes his job as the advisor that might harder.

With a firm nod and furrowed brow he says, "I'm glad you feel that way, at least. There's only two options when a person can't figure somethin' out at first: Give up, or try harder." His serious demeanor cracks for the tiniest of smiles then. "I'm proud to see you don't wanna give up."

Then, with a return to stoicism and another nod, he adds, "But you gotta accept that some things take time. Try to assume you know your feelin's in the moment and you wind up actin' outta passion and regrettin' it. When somethin' big like a fight with a friend happens, what you gotta do is remove yourself – which you did – and then go home and really think. Sometimes that means a night. Sometimes a week. Sometimes months, or even years. 'Cause sometimes..."

He pauses to breathe and to focus. Things really are getting serious now, and he can't lead V astray with this talk.

"Sometimes we do things in the moment that feel right then, and we don't realize that the consequences might last forever. There are some words and actions that can't be taken back. With big decisions like this, where you're wonderin' whether or not a friend ever wants to see you again or might be happier without you... Those could be forever-consequences. It's best to sort out all of your emotions and know all of the words you want to say before they come out. Steppin' back for a few weeks while you solve the mystery of how you feel about yourself and your possible futures is better than givin' an answer right away."

After a sigh and a pat to Viatorus's knee he shakes his head slightly. "I know you just got into the fight with her, and I know that you'd really love an answer right now. It's like seein' someone you care about get a curse that tombs 'em up in glass. Do you shatter the glass? Do you melt it? Will that hurt them? Will it bounce back and hurt you? Can you survive without this person? Can they survive without you? The urge is there to fix things right away. But what you gotta do is sit back and study the situation. The hard part is all the uncertainty in the meantime."

He pats his hands on his own knees this time and injects a little hopefulness into his voice. "Why don't we try to riddle out just one of your emotions right now? I know it's gotta be weird doin' it in someone else's body, but... Hey, maybe if we get a handle on one piece of this puzzle it'll help you calm down and change back into a human?"

See how much Viatorus' eyes widen at hearing he makes someone proud. That is the last thing he thought he'd hear, least of all from Harrowheart. This is far from the annoyed raving he expected when the other found out about his transformation. It certainly shocks him into paying attention to the next part of advice he's given as he stares at Harrowheart in surprise.

There's sense in what Harrowheart is saying. Even now, stressed and upset as he is, he can tell that. The familiarity of logic and solutions calm him a little.

He turns back to his paws as he fidgets. "What if... What is I end up not being able to? What if it upsets me more? A-And then I can't change back?"

Harrow can't help but smile. He tries to twist his mouth side to side to keep it from showing, but it's too late.

"Wanna know a secret?"

He holds his composure for about five seconds before he's got to let the ~~cat~~ dog out of the bag.

"Technically a worgen's true form is his worgen form. You changed 'cause your brain and your body wanted things to feel normal again." Now he permits himself to show his smile.

"I only go around as a man 'cause most folks are more scared of dog people than dead people, in my experience. Matter of fact, I like bein' a worgen more than I like bein' a man. Makes me feel big, but in a friendlier way. Somehow it makes me feel like I'm part of nature."

He laughs at what he's about to say, bites at his lips, and finally resolves to say it. "I know you're a clean and proper nobility sorta fellow, but you know what always makes me feel good when I'm in my worgen form? Layin' on the ground. Findin' a nice patch of grass with a view of lots of plants and friendly bugs and things and gettin' down on my chest and just wastin' time watchin' the world. It's nice to watch bees on flowers and birds peckin' up ants feelin' like I'm a part of it all and not a human invader. D'you... Wanna go to the Parklands and try that, maybe? We don't have to. We can stay here and chat like this just sittin' in a corner. No skin off Steve's nose."

He laughs at his own bad joke, and then he holds up one finger for one tiny addendum: "If we go... You oughta carry me. Now, I'm not sayin' that for me, I'm sayin' it for you. It's real rewardin' to be strong in a friendly way. It's nice to feel like folks rely on you and you can help 'em out. You might enjoy it, and Steve's little body won't weigh nothin' to you."

At this rate Viatorus is going to be stuck in a permanent state of surprise. That is not how he knows werewolves to be in his world, so he has to take time to try and reconsider his understanding of what it means to be a worgen.

Looking back at his hand-paws, he wriggles his fingers. They do look like something that would suit a stuffed toy. Maybe he would like being a worgen better too, if he stopped stressing. The talk about being around nature gets him to look at Harrowheart again. "I... I used to do things like that too. Trying to get close to nature..."

Druid-like tendencies are the very last thing he expected from the undead death knight.

He will take a minute to seriously consider Harrowheart's proposal. Although he's still not sure about carrying him. "Wouldn't you get a cold?" He looks around. "There's snow everywhere. And... isn't carrying someone... rude?"

"Shoot," Harrow whispers as he follows V's sweeping gaze. "I forgot about the snow..." That does put a damper on things. There won't be bugs or grass or any of the pleasant things he'd been imagining. He could make the call one way or another and help V out, but he'd like to give him an opportunity to choose for yourself. "So it's your call. If you want to lay in the snow I'll be happy. If you don't, I'll be happy. This time it's about you."

He looks at his own hands now. So small, so foreign. "Is it rude to carry someone on Earth? It's pretty normal where I come from, 'specially for shapeshifters. People kinda expect you'll offer at the very least. But then again, we still ride horses and sabercats and things like that. On Earth you got cars. Probably makes transportation feel impersonal, huh?"

He eyes Viatorus, then momentarily frowns remembering that it's his own body he's looking at. He can imagine V's face if he tries, though, and that's what matters.

"You kinda look like a guy who likes horses. Does your family own a stable? Is that how you got close to nature? Or some other way?"

An awed whisper of "Sabercats..." slips from his lips before he blinks back into the present.

"I thought it was. Rude, that is." He stops himself to think for a moment before he concedes, "But where I come from, it's frowned upon to resort to physical effort. Maybe it's different for normal people."

Part of him is vividly aware of the stark differences between his life. This conversation is definitely highlighting that for him yet again. He might leave out the whole matter of chauffeurs for now.

"We do. I quite like riding, but I haven't done it in a long time. Usually I like to go for long walks, lay back in the grass... or swim. I used to climb trees, but... the clothes I wear aren't really suited to that." A small smile pauses briefly on his face. It feels strange to smile as a worgen, which doesn't help it stay.

After a moment, he rises slowly to his feet. "Maybe... Maybe if we visit the park anyway. If... If you're sure you'll be alright."

Normal people. It sounds so sad when V puts it that way... For about a second and a half, until Harrow remembers that Viatorus's 'abnormal' life is one of luxury and comforts. Harrow takes in a small breath of cold air, coughs, and reminds himself not to be rude to V about it. It isn't the boy's fault, after all.

He rises to his feet and holds his hands on his hips for a moment or two. He waits to see whether V has any intention to attempt carrying, but if he doesn't he won't say a word. He's perfectly content to walk to the park if that's the way V would prefer.

"I'll be fine. Steve was dressed pretty warm when all this happened. I think I can be out another hour or so. Long enough for us to talk about feelings, anyway."

Viatorus is certainly considering taking Harrowheart's advice. He stands, looking Steve up and down, hands almost reaching out before he steals them back again. Eventually he sighs and rubs his wrists. "I-I-I don't know how to pick someone up. Or carry them."

This would be Harrow's moment to shine if he weren't in a body as delicate as an aging apricot. Nevertheless he's prepared to be supportive. And supported. Dude really wants to not have to walk.

"It's easy!" he says in an upbeat attempt at encouragement. "Think of my body as... As a long suit you gotta carry without wrinklin' it. Drape me over your arms!"

He holds both arms out bent at the elbow, parallel to his body like a forklift, palms toward the sky. "Arms like this, right? My mid-back goes over one arm, my knees go over the other. I'll reach up and hold onto your neck. All you gotta do is put your hands out, bend down, scoop me up, and stand. I won't fall outta your arms, promise."

He bats his eyelashes, fans his face, and with a flattered smile attempts his best falsetto voice and delicate ~~Southern~~ Westfall belle accent. "Just imagine I'm your blushin' bride on our weddin' day~"

Because he wouldn't be Harrowheart if he didn't say something wrong.

Could he have picked a more awkward joke to use? Possibly not. The careful attention on Viatorus' face is quickly replaced, not by laughter or amusement, but by a flash of hurt. Harrowheart knows his own face far better than Viatorus knows how to control his feelings, so the undead worgen probably sees it before Viatorus has a chance to hide it. He tries anyway, looking away for a moment.

Harrowheart didn't know. He didn't mean anything by it. They're not talking about that. Harrowheart is trying to lighten the mood... The best he can do is not let sadness settle.

Viatorus nods and, though a little uncertain about it, manages to pick Steve's small frame up. "It's easy," he comments quietly, trying to focus on the surprise of the revelation.

Harrow absolutely beams, in no small part because of that look he caught before V could stop it. He presses his palms lightly to Viatorus's cheeks and tries to turn his head so that he has to see the way he can make another person laugh. He tries a few times to stop his smile as his cheeks start to tire, but the novelty of the whole situation is too powerful to ignore.

"Nobody's been able to pick me up since I was a kid. Sorry I'm havin' so much fun with this. Just really brightened my day, 's'all."

As he said he'd do he loops his arms around V's neck and tries not to drown in the fur. He nods in what he assumes is the direction of the Parklands. "Let's go find us a nice spot to lie down and have a man chat."

It's certainly bizarre to be able to lift another person. And so easily too... It almost feels as if he's using magic... Or like he's holding a puppy. Ironic, since in this case he's the wolf-man holding a human.

He manages the smallest of smiles. Holding it is no small effort. "It's alright. You shouldn't be sorry for being happy."

Heading to the Parklands is a smooth, simple task, even though he's carrying Harrowheart. Without much thought, he heads towards a point where there's a bench by a frozen lake and plenty of trees around them, taking in all the strange smells and sounds along the way. When they reach the bench, he'll set Harrowheart down in front of the bench.

"Is this alright?"

Harrow hops down gladly. His day – nay, his life – has been improved by the strong arms of a wolfman. He dusts a few stray hairs from Steve's jacket when he's down on his feet, stretches his arms far above his head, and then collapses into the bench.

"I think this is the perfect spot," he says as he crosses one leg over the other.

He sweeps a hand in a long arc to invite V to sit in the snow or on the bench near him. The world is his sitting oyster.

"Now how 'bout we talk about one of the feelings you are or aren't havin' right now? Don't gotta be about your thing with Verity. I'll hear anything. I'll help you riddle out one of your problems, and then when it's over I'll get all uppity and ask for payment and throw a fit when your pretty sister comes and tries not to give it."

He winks? He grins? That must be one of those new-fangled jokes the help are always talking about.

Harrowheart's joke gets a small smile and Viatorus picks a pile of snow to hesitantly sit on. He sinks into it suddenly, surprising him momentarily. Right. He's heavy.

Leaning back until he's lying down, Viatorus sighs. "I don't know which one to pick. I feel... confused... and guilty..." He rolls his head to look over at Harrowheart again. "Did you ever get told to be quiet, to not say things even when you wanted to?"

Harrow has to think on that for a moment. In a short while he shakes his head.

"In the army, sure, but not by a friend, and never like that. That's a real mean thing to get told. It means the other person's already decided your opinion don't mean anything before they even hear it. It's like bein' told you're an idiot, which is somethin' I know pretty well.

"When that happens to me, at first I feel ashamed. I start thinkin' about all the ways I am an idiot, and how my opinion really don't matter. So I imagine right about now you're thinkin' about all the ways you deserve to be told to shut up? Or maybe the reason you yelled is because you felt a little fire of injustice inside ya. Some little part of you knows you don't want to be quiet, that you got things to say, and you got a right to say it. Given enough time either of those could make a guy feel guilty. Which one do you think you're feelin' the most right now?"

Edited 2016-02-01 13:53 (UTC)

'In the army'. Those are words foreign to him. Even his ancestors managed, for the most part, to avoid armies and wars. Wealth allows for that.

"... The first, I guess..." He's quiet for a second. "If I had acted like I've been told to... If I'd just been quiet... Verity and I wouldn't have argued. Everything would be alright. I thought talking would help, but the more I said, the worse it got. Even when I was trying to help, trying to figure things out. If I'd have just shut up..."

Harrow shakes his head immediately. "If you'd been quiet and never brought it up, you woulda felt unfulfilled. You brought it up for a reason. If you just let it sit and stew it turns into uncertainty and discomfort and all kinds of bad, unsaid feelings. Tryin' to talk it out was right. It just didn't go the way you'd hoped, and it turned into a fight 'cause you couldn't sort out your words... Which is hard enough even on the best of days."

He runs a hand through his hair, ignorant to how embarrassing Steve's bangs look when they fall at odd angles.

"So you feel like things are better when you don't talk, 'cause when you open your mouth you say the wrong thing. But you felt like you had to talk, 'cause you had important things to get off your chest. I think I get this. I can cut all this up. Think of it this way: You tried to solve a problem and only failed 'cause you didn't have the right skills. Your intentions were good, which is the important part. Because you didn't perform perfectly, you got told to stop tryin'. Now you feel like it's pointless to try. But that just means you'll never improve your skills, right?"

He scoots to the very edge of the bench to be a little closer to V and puts on his calmest Steve smile.

"This is an easier fix than you think. We can make this work, man. What you gotta do is write a letter. I bet you're better at writin' than talkin', right? It gives you time to sort out all your ideas and double-think your words."

He takes a deep breath and debates what he's going to say here.

"When I found out my boyfriend was havin' an affair and I got real mean to the lady? Well. I hurt her pretty bad emotionally. I called her ungentlemanly words and told her hurtful things. It was disgraceful for me to act the way I did. I felt like I had to make things better, even if I was hurt. So what I did was I wrote a letter. And what I learned was that you can apologize for the wrong things you did without excusin' the wrong things another person did to you. It's about acceptin' your part of the blame. It's got nothin' to do with what they did. If they're a big person they'll apologize in kind. In my letter I told the lady that my words and actions were uncalled for no matter how I felt or how I hurt. I admitted my faults and told her that I hoped I hadn't caused any lasting damage, but I never said that what she did to me was okay. In the end she wrote back and apologized for how she'd hurt me, and she appreciated that I would try to make amends with her even though there weren't really any reason to.

"Now, that's what happened between me and someone I hated. I think it'll go just as good for you if you write to Verity, your friend. Apologize for raisin' your voice at the very least, and apologize for any hurt feelings you caused. Admit your intentions were good but you didn't speak your mind too well, and explain that you didn't mean nothin' by stumblin'. If you'd like to see her again in the future say as much, but give her the option to decline. The only thing you don't do is apologize on her behalf for the things she did wrong. And don't say you're sorry that you even brought it up, 'cause that causes two things: For one, you look spineless, and a spineless person gets walked on. For two, she learns she never has to accept her part in any hurt she causes. And if all goes well, which I think it will, hopefully she'll be a big person and admit her faults in the matter. And if she don't... Well, that reflects more on her than on you."

He raises his eyebrows slowly and studies V's face. "Does this sound fair? Sound like somethin' you can do?"

Considering how attentive and patient Harrowheart has been with him today, Viatorus is not about to be any less to him. It's difficult and strange to hear his problems being worked out like this. Apart from his brief encounters with psychologists, no one has ever done anything like this with him before. It's personal and part of him wants to close up and stop the conversation entirely... but Harrowheart is right in many of the things he's saying. Perhaps it's because he's speaking from experience, but... Viatorus can't ignore good advice.

After careful consideration he asks, "But... wouldn't it be rude? To apologise in a letter instead of in person?"

Again he starts up as a thought occurs to him. "A-And... what if... what if we want to see each other again but it would be better if we didn't?"

Harrow's eyebrows lower. He shifts his mouth side to side as he considers those very valid questions. Every time he's sure this is getting easier Viatorus throws a wrench in it all. Poor kid.

"I mean... I can't lie... There's a chance she'll be offended by a letter. If you think she might think you're rude or a coward, explain real kindly from your very first lines that you wish you could have said it in person but you find your thoughts come easier when you write. Say that this is a very important matter to you, and you'd rather say what you mean than stutter or mess up. And you know, some people actually prefer to get letters when things are rough like this? It's easier. They can read it on their own time, re-read it, think about it. They don't gotta see any hurt faces. Gives 'em a sense of safety and distance to really think it all through."

It's Viatorus's second question that really stumps him. How could two people both want to see each other but decide it's best they didn't? What could get in the way of two people's desire. Light, he can't ask and look ignorant now. Under normal circumstances, of course, but somehow he's become some kind of advisor. That means he's expected to know things without having them spelled out. Time to get vague and introspective.

"Do you think it'll be a bad idea to meet again, even if you both want to? Or are you only worried she's gonna think that?"

Viatorus is incredibly talented at worrying. Even as he knows Harrowheart is speaking sense, and as much as wants everything to be right and end well... He knows how best to worry about it.

The suggestion isn't perfect, but it is reassuring. Really, how could it be much worse than how he's spoken to her face to face?

Oblivious to Harrowheart's cluelessness, Viatorus stops to think about the questions he's being asked. "If... If our meeting, if our being around each other upsets her as much as it seems to..." He stops to frown up at his friend. "Harrowheart, every time we've talked, I've managed to make her sad. That's not what a good friend does. I wouldn't want sadness for anyone, but that's all I seem to give her."

Harrow reaches for his breast pocket and... He doesn't have one. Right. Steve's shirt, Steve's body. Besides, these lungs wouldn't be able to handle a cigarette. He sighs. What a time to not have a way to distract from the difficulty of what he's about to say.

"V, man... Don't take it the wrong way when I say this, but..." Deep breath. "Some people're just... Sad. No matter what you do, they're sad. It goes beyond you. It goes beyond any of us. It's like there's sadness in their brain or somethin'. I don't know how to explain it. I'm no brain doctor." He huffs a single laugh. "If those even exist.

"The point is, Verity's got a deep, deep sadness in her. She cried the first time I met her 'cause I asked her what she does for a livin'. She walked out of a movie with all of us 'cause she got emotional. Tiny things spark up her sadness, and I'd be surprised to learn that you affect her any more than a movie about wars in space or a question at a Hallow's End party. You probably just gotta roll with the punches. And, honestly? I think she'd appreciate havin' a friend over not. I know I would."

Viatorus isn't sure he understands this. There have been a lot of confusing things that have happened in the past twenty-four hours, but this notion is definitely one of the most baffling. He's never heard of people just being sad before.

"But... that doesn't make sense. Happiness is a person's natural state. People are always sad for a reason. I just... don't want to be the reason. I want to make her happy, but... I never do."

Harrow glances left, then right. Happiness is a person's natural state... Did he hear that right? Is Viatorus a character out of a children's story?

"I ain't tryna shit on your parade, man, but... You... Actually, honestly believe that most folks are happy by default?"

His voice quiets then and a deep frown overtakes his features. "Is that true for you and your life?"

Viatorus looks around before meeting Harrowheart's gaze. "You don't meditate, do you?"

He sits up and gestures as he speaks. "When you clear your head. When you stop thinking about everything and worrying... Even when you're supposed to be nothing but empty, or peaceful... You're happy. It just... gets buried."

Harrow grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest, leans back in the bench, and slides down until he's sitting as much on his back as on his rump.

"You're not the first person who's said that," he says as gruffly as Steve's throat allows. "But the first person who told me was bein' a sarcastic dick about it."

He's positive Viatorus isn't capable of sarcasm or dickery, though. And though he doesn't show it in any way other than roaming eyes, he's thinking it over.

Suddenly he grunts again. "Maybe you can... show me or somethin' sometime, Idunno..."

Harrowheart just keeps on surprising him. His eyes widen a little. "Show you?" He blinks a little and realises that he might be coming across as rude. "O-Of course. Yes. I... I've never taught someone how to meditate before..."

A small, uncertain smile pulls at his mouth. "It... It might be nice."

An idea strikes Harrow then and as it forms his eyebrows rise.

"Why don't you try it now? Can you do it here? Like this? Maybe you'll find your center and turn back into a man?..."

He sits up and watches closely. He'd like to see V try, at the very least.

It's... not a bad idea, but Viatorus frowns, concern creeping up on his again. "I... I don't know... It would feel strange. Doing that in someone else's body. Focusing on being in another form... What do I have to do to turn back?"

"That's like askin' me how to move my arms. How do you explain somethin' that's part of your body like that?"

Harrow closes his eyes and thinks. In a few deep breaths he feels close enough to the answer to at least attempt it.

"Think about my human form, if you can remember what that looks like. If not, think about bein' human in general. Imagine your claws retractin' into normal hands, your legs makin' the right angles, your shoulders gettin' square again. Think about all the parts of you that you can move and try to move 'em so that you feel like you look human. Your body might get the hint, and once the transformation starts it'll finish itself before you gotta worry any more. It's all one big flowin' motion."

He has no idea. He has no idea at all and, truth be told, he was hoping Viatorus would magically transform back into a real boy without meaning to and save them all the trouble. He sits tensely on the bench, fingers gripping the seat, and he waits. Hopefully his advice will work.

If that's the closest thing to an answer he's going to get, then he has to take it and work with it. He tries not to look as uncertain as he feels as he gets into a more comfortable sitting position. It's not perfect, but it's close to what he's used to. Folding his hands, he closes his eyes and starts to regulate his breathing.

It's unnerving, doing this in worgen form. The more he concentrates, the more aware he is of the body he's in. Slowly paying attention to each inch of muscle, and the weight of the fur. The strangeness of it makes him open his eyes and flex his hands, clenching and relaxing them. "Sorry. It's... It's harder to do like this. Let me try again."

Harrowheart will have to deal with silence for a while as Viatorus tries again. Without warning, the wolf-man begins to change back into a corpse, startling Viatorus even though that's what he was aiming for. He reaches out for the bench and scrambles a little in alarm at the odd feeling, but it's soon over.

"Oh that felt terribly strange..."

Harrow is just as surprised by the transformation as Viatorus! Perhaps more. He's never been able to watch his body change like that, and it stuns him to finally see it. Quick as it is, he did catch some of the details. And when his human body emerges from where a worgen's had been? Bizarre. Words are beyond him for a moment or two as he stares in thought.

But V is startled, and he needs someone to assure him that everything is right. And he has done a very good job at changing back! It's natural to smile for his achievement.

"You did it! Light, Viatorus, you're real brave to go through all'a that you know? I remember the first time I ever changed into a worgen and how terrifyin' it was to turn back. But you're a man again! Even if you are a man with ripped-up clothes."

He laughs as he plucks at some of the loose shreds of cloth that once made up the shoulders and chest of a tight shirt. "You're gonna have to dress my body up so you don't look like roadkill. I think I got my overshirt in my – your? – bag, if you don't mind wearin' plaid."

Right now, curling up with a big glass of wine and watching old movies would be really nice, but... Then he's getting reminded about the fate of the shirt he'd been wearing. He lifts a hand to his face and touches the tatters still clinging to him. "I'm so sorry... I... I should buy you some new clothes, at least a new t-shirt, but... maybe I'll wear the overshirt until then."

Harrow's first instinct is to tell Viatorus that no, he doesn't have to buy anything. He'll earn it on his own and, really, it's fine! But something brings him back to earlier in the conversation. Viatorus had said he was sorry. Harrow told him not to say that. The intention was to make him feel better, but it only made him more worried. Without realizing it he nods his head as he comes to a realization. Viatorus is a person who wants to be able to apologize to be sure everything is good.

"You can buy me a new shirt, if it'd make you feel good?" With a goodnatured laugh he quickly adds, "I ain't gonna hold you at gunpoint for it or nothin', but if you want to? I could always use a shirt or two."

He opens up the satchel swung around V's shoulders, mindful not to get too close to his runeblades as he does. Out comes the shirt, and he's even willing to help V put it on. The perfect butler. When it's through he waves in the vague direction of the commercial district.

"We can have a good afternoon shoppin'. Maybe even get a gift for Steve."

Being properly clothed again is much better. He smiles gratefully at Harrowheart. It's not exactly easy helping him out with the height difference between the two of them at the moment.

"I'd like that. I'd... I'd like to get you some trousers too. Maybe a suit. I think you'd look nice in a suit." And it would be clothing he's actually comfortable in.

Worgen Hard or Hardly Worgen?

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A big glass of wine and an old movie. Omg V is a 40-year-old woman.

His secret is out!