thattimeofthemonth | Broken on the Dawn

Broken on the Dawn

Sometimes, one just gave up on life. When there was nothing left to fight for, nothing left to live for, nothing left to even hope for. In one terribly short amount of time, he had lost... everything. The people he had come to love like family - James, Peter, Lily. Their beautiful child he had been so excited to meet, murmuring to the little one in the womb in a way that always made Lily laugh. Even his brother, his best friend, his... maybe one day they might have been something more, but then to find out in one blow that it had been Sirius who had become a traitor, whisked away to Azkaban before he could even find out why. Why he had murdered Peter, why he had told...?!

Why Sirius had said he was the traitor. But... he was all too easy to blame, wasn't he? Who else could Sirius have gotten away with blaming the leak to that everyone would immediately believe? Some people knew who shouldn't ever have, but equally, some of them were dead. He had no idea who knew anymore. What he was, what Sirius said he was... some probably believed Sirius had lied about anything, everything-- hell, he didn't even know.

So he sat waiting, staring up at the horizon as the sun fell. It was a beautiful sunset, streaking bloody red and purple across the sky, more beautiful than he felt. No one was out here nor would they be, on this desolate moor where Dumbledore, bless him, had set him up a place to be able to hide now that he was long out of school. Enough for him to recover and go back to home... but now there wasn't even that. No home, no one to go back to.

His head hung. The tears came. They hung, then fell. Every time he thought there couldn't possibly be more within him, more to wring out of his soul, they came. It hurt more than waking up tomorrow morning would, far more. The nightmares were even worse because they were glorious. James and Lily laughed in his memories, Peter squeaked and shared food, and Sirius gave him that grin and told him to come sneak out to the village with him. Then he woke to nothing.

When the moon started to crest the far hills, Remus reached down and tugged off his shoes, tossing them to the side, then did the same with his pants. It was hard not being a little used to being nude given the amount of times the boys had found him as such, but even more so when no one was around. This time, he met the moon straight on, eyes watching it as it came up. It would take away his humanity and with it, the pain that came with knowing.

What he never would have expected was that long after it happened that night - the change, the creak and crash of bone, the moments between knowing and not until Remus faded away completely and Moony cried to his namesake, the running through the heather, even a hunt that started to bring him towards morning - that something would go horribly wrong. What it was, he had no idea, couldn't know. All the wolf saw was light, smelled the reek of burnt fur, then darkness.

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To Vrenille's ear, that accent was oddly reminiscent of sylvari speech, which was a little odd, but so far down on the scale that he didn't really pay it much mind. Obviously there were much bigger fish to be frying at the moment.

Things like watching the young man get to his feet, which made Vrenille almost wince in sympathy--the guy looked like every part of him hurt, but a lot of people didn't like pity, so he tried to keep his expression from showing too much, even as he stood and tentatively extended a hand in a gesture that said he'd offer support if it was wanted or needed.

The whole thing was a bit awkward though, and despite how good he usually was with people, he really wasn't sure what to say or just how to act here, especially not given that muttered apology. So he tried going with a bit of levity, hoping maybe it would break the ice.

"Are you apologizing for the being naked part or for the part where you tried to eat my face?" He said it with a smile, still gentle and genuine. It didn't occur to him that the stranger might not remember what had taken place before the dawn. He figured the awkwardness was because he did remember and just felt bad about it.

What was a tired, pained, but not unfriendly look on Remus' face changed to a look of abject terror when the stranger spoke those words. Oh by Merlin... he had attacked this man. Immediately his heart began racing in his chest, fear pulsing through him. He scanned up and down Vrenille's body but saw no tear marks, but that meant little. "Did- did he hurt you?" It had been Sirius that had started to get him to talk about Moony in the third person, and it came without much thought now. "I- bloody hell-"

This was his nightmare, to have attacked someone and changed them as well, making the cycle started by Greyback complete. Normally he would be trudging back towards the little shack on the moor, calling his wand to him along the way to make it easier, so that he could get cleaned, dressed, and use the portkey to get himself back to town for a proper breakfast.

This was a bit of a damper on those plans, though.

Well that certainly hadn't gone as planned. ...Oops?

Seeing that look on the stranger's face, Vrenille sort of reflexively went into damage control mode. Usually when people looked at him like that it meant that he was at risk of not getting paid, and even though this guy obviously wasn't a mark given all the current circumstances, old reflexes died hard.

"Whoa. Hey, hey--it's all right. I'm fine. You scared me a bit, but the sun came up. Everything's fine." (Bullshit. Very few things were currently fine. Still, it seemed a good thing to say just then.) He had his hands out, splayed in a 'calm down' sort of gesture. It wasn't the gesture of a man who was frightened. If anything, he looked ready to grab hold of the stranger should his legs give out from under him, which was mostly because standing there wrapped in a scarf didn't make this young man look any less like someone in danger of having his legs do precisely that.

"...You don't remember anything from before dawn, do you?"

Remus had dealt with far worse on waking up when it came to the physical - some of those scars went deep, very deep. A closer look would show terrible bite wounds as if the wolf had chewed on his own legs and arms, slices fairly anywhere but his stomach where the wolf wouldn't have been able to get at himself. Waking up without a wound meant he could walk even if he had to fight for it.

It was mostly his own fears that were keeping him completely on the blitz at the moment.

His throat felt like it was closing as he panicked in trying to figure out what to do. The other didn't seem to be nearly as worried as he felt and honestly he had no idea how to handle that. How could any other wizard not be angry with him? It just didn't occur to him that others out there might be like his friends had been. How Dumbledore had always been with him.

"...no." Flat, looking more like a spooked animal about to run instead of an angry wolf about to chew his face off. "I- I'm so sorry." Just a whisper, debating if he needed to run or defend himself or anything.

Maybe it was kind of weird to feel sympathy for someone you really didn't know, but Vrenille had kind of built his livelihood (such as it was in his younger years) on being able to do just that for people--for men in particular, soldiers in many cases, but really that part didn't matter. Half the time what he offered a guy was simply companionship, and for his companionship he'd get a meal, a warm bed, and someone who would want to come back to him again, someone who'd help him out when he got into a really tight spot.

It sounded horribly mercenary and disingenuous on the surface, but in a way, this was no different. And the truth of the matter was that Vrenille didn't fake the caring. He almost never faked it, and he wasn't doing so now.

He could see how scared and disheartened this young man was--scared in his bones for reasons that Vrenille couldn't fully understand--and the most natural thing in the world for him was to reach out to someone like that.

"Look, it's ok. Whatever could have happened, it didn't, yeah? Come on, tell me your name and let's get-- I dunno, inside somewhere? Someplace warm maybe? Is there anywhere to get inside around here?"

Nope.

Remus immediately jerked back from that reaching hand, assuming that this stranger was going to try and hold him. Without his wand, weak after the moon, he was almost defenseless. Normally at school, in the Order, he didn't have an issue with people touching him. It was usually nice to have even that small contact, someone who didn't act afraid of him, but from a total stranger who knew what he was? It had to be taken as something bad.

There was a limited amount of wandless magic he could do, and he was damn proud at his age to be able to do it. It had taken many hours of lessons with Dumbledore to be able to do the most important one - calling his wand to his hand from a distance - but given that some adults would never prove to be able to do it, he couldn't help but be proud. Even if it was a huge necessity in his life for things exactly like this. It took a raised hand and concentration as he was backing away from the stranger, but when there came the satisfying snap of it to his hand, stinging from the speed at which it arrived, and the weight as he closed his fingers around it, worth it.

So Vrenille would have the wand pointed at him, every line in Remus' body tensed up. "...I don't want to harm you," he said quietly, but everything in his tone suggested but I will if I must.

Vrenille's eyebrows rose.

Wands were not a thing in Tyria. Weapons, however, could come in veritably all shapes and sizes. That made it easy to read the threat, even without understanding the mechanics of just how the wand had appeared in the stranger's hand.

"Okay. Not...exactly the reaction I was going for."

Somehow between trying to offer a friendly hand and suggesting that they go somewhere together, Vrenille had gone very wrong. Trouble was, he wasn't quite sure what precisely the wrong point was. Maybe it was asking the guy for his name? Maybe it was something else completely--maybe the guy was just nuts. But Vrenille didn't think it was that last one.

He breathed a deep sigh, making no move to reach for a weapon of his own, though in his mind, he readied a spell that would cloak him into invisibility and leave one of his clones standing where he now stood. Just in case.

"Friend, I'm gonna level with you here: I don't want you to harm me either, but I have absolutely no idea what is going on right now. And I definitely don't know what I did to set you off. I don't know where I am, I have only about half an idea how I got here, and I just spent what feels like the better part of an hour running from you. So if you could just maybe give me a break--maybe? I would really appreciate it."

There was a very, very long pause from Remus, completely unmoving from that position of threatening stick pointing. This... didn't sound at all like someone who was about to turn him into the Ministry or kill him on sight. His brows started to pinch together, confused about it. What did he mean he didn't know how he got here? Why was he so calm after being chased by a werewolf?

Slowly, still with a cautious air, Remus lowered his wand, letting it stay by his side still in hand. Not out of the equation, but no an immediate threat anymore. "...what do you mean, you don't know how you got here?" Something wasn't adding up in the middle of this. The man seemed dressed like a wizard, but now Remus was starting to worry that this was in fact a Muggle and he was going to need to deal with all of that mess. Oblivating them and reporting that (or not bothering but hoping no one figured it out-- okay he definitely wasn't about to report it) and making sure this guy got somewhere safe.

As of this moment, Vrenille of course had no reason to think he was anywhere other than a different part of Tyria. A foreign part of Tyria perhaps, but his own world nonetheless. And that meant that he saw no reason to be anything other than forthright about what had happened to him, since to anyone in his world it would be perfectly plausible and within the realm of possibility.

"I fell off of an airship--there was some kind of explosion--and then I hit this portal...sort of. It's hard to explain. Anyway, I woke up here, wherever 'here' is."

Simple answer, just the facts. Facts, hopefully, that would satisfy the young man and maybe set them back on steadier ground. Granted, none of that explained why Vrenille was so calm. He could have explained that too if asked, but as it stood it simply didn't occur to him to point out that after being chased by mordem and chak and more pocket raptors than he could count, being chased by one lone werewolf seemed like the kind of thing he really ought to just take in stride.

A very slow brow raise followed Vrenille's words because airship? That was nothing he knew of, and his free hand came up to gesture just slightly as he asked, "airship?" What exactly did he mean by that? "You're telling me some sort of magic went awry?" That was what it vaguely sounded like, but 'portal' wasn't something he really knew either. Portals didn't exactly happen often in the wizarding world other than the normal use of portals - doors.

"You're in Scotland." Maybe this bloke was from the States? That would make sense, though he wasn't terribly sure on that accent. There, start with that. Then... figure out if this was a Muggle or not. The term 'airship' suggested not, but that whole reaction to him as a werewolf wasn't anything like he might have guessed. Also the fact that this man had yet to draw his wand equally suggested Muggle.

Was an airship some kind of cause for confusion? Vrenille didn't quite follow that, but it wasn't top on his list of concerns. More important was the topic of what kind of magic had caused the explosion and what had happened in its wake.

"Hard to say for sure, but I think it must have. I know the maelstrom I saw was no ordinary storm, and with all the reports of White Mantle in the area..." He probably shouldn't be talking about that with a stranger though, at least not until he knew who this guy was affiliated with.

At least he'd gotten a name for where he was. That was...helpful? Except for where it actually wasn't. "Uh, right. Scotland.

"Where's that?"

Even though he knew Americans were supposed to be... somewhat challenged on the rest of the world, this felt like it wasn't the same thing. Everyone knew of Scotland, didn't they? His brows pinched further, trying to figure out what to do. "What do you mean, maelstrom? What's the White Mantle?" Why did it feel like he wasn't understanding what this stranger was saying and visa versa?

Was this some sort of Muggle thing? That would make sense; he definitely wasn't completely connected to what was going on there, after all.

"...north of England?" He cautiously suggested.

The realization that something wasn't quite right here was entirely mutual, and a moment too late Vrenille caught on that he probably needed to start being distinctly more careful with what he said to this guy until he had a better sense of what was going on.

Not that the White Mantle question was such a tell. The group had been operating in the shadows for centuries after supposedly being wiped out in the Krytan civil war. Most people who knew the name now knew it from a chapter out of a Tyrian history book. Nonetheless, it was still time for some damage control, starting with the topic of his geographic knowledge. Evidently 'Scotland' was a place he was expected to know.

"Right, north of England. Of course. Six, how'd I get there?" He shook his head as though he was just remarking on the distance, nothing more.

"Look, all can say for sure is that we were flying towards this maelstrom and it looked real dicey, even from a ways away. The rest--I mean, it wasn't my airship, wasn't my mission. I was just there as a messenger. I don't have details. But yeah, sure, there was magical energy crackling through the air like lightning, and you could just feel it, you know the feeling that something's not right. Maybe the whole place was a powder keg.

"That explosion I mentioned? The blast came from inside the maelstrom, and it reached right up into the clouds, took over the whole damn storm. I thought we were done for. And then the blast kind of reversed itself and sucked everything in, and that's when I fell. Everyone else on that ship could be dead for all I know. Or maybe they're all scattered and lost the way I am.

"I don't know what you're thinking that made you wanna--" a nod towards the lowered wand, "but I'm not out to hurt you. And I don't want to fight you now any more than I wanted to when you were all...toothy. I've had a long day; I think you've had a long night. So if it's all the same to you, can we maybe agree that we won't try to kill each other?"

Edited (noticed a 'the' which was meant to be 'that', my bad) 2016-12-10 12:39 (UTC)

Well the man was certainly speaking like a wizard, so that was an utter relief for Remus who definitely wouldn't have had the first desire to deal with a Muggle right now in this situation. Even more so, this was not a wizard from around here for certain, given that the man seemed more than a little confused about how he'd even arrived in this part of the world. For now though, he cautiously accepted that the other didn't seem entirely a threat, so he gave a small nod and with a lack of better placement, tucked the wand into the scarf at his hip.

"...a man has to defend himself," he said as if that explained everything and in a way, it did. This was Remus though and he gave a proper smile, albeit still an awkward one, and offered his hand. "Sorry about the rude.. well, everything so far. Bit of a strange scenario for both of us I think. I'm Remus." In future years, he would lie as easily as he breathed about his name, but for now that wasn't so ingrained. "I've got a tiny place back that-a-way, where I can be less in the buff and we can figure out on how to get you back home."

"Vrenille." Exhaling a small breath of relief that his little speech had worked, he reached out and shook the man's hand, returning the smile with one of his own which, while not exactly calculated, was the sort of smile he often gave to men when he wanted to make them feel warm and special. It was almost reflexive--his 'you really want to treat me well, right?' smile.

Remus wasn't the only one with a sense that a man needed to protect himself; Vrenille approached that need in a very a different way, but its spirit was still the same. The truth was that going home with any guy was always a bit of a risk, however nice he seemed. He had to be aware of that, every time, no matter what he was going for. And he'd already established that he'd need to be circumspect with Remus--maybe outright deceptive if it came to it--at least until he could figure out where he was and understand his situation here a little bit better.

All that meant, of course, that he was going to be very easy going about accepting the proffered apology and taking any and all rudeness in stride. "And it's okay. I'm glad to meet you, circumstances notwithstanding. I really don't know what I'd do if I hadn't run into you--I'd be lost out here." A pause and a concerned look, "Are you sure you're ok though? No offense but you kind of look like you've been through hell."

He'd be happy with walking back in the that-a-way direction that Remus had indicated (he didn't really think they had many other options) but that didn't make him any less concerned that a barefoot trek across the moors might be more than this young man had left in him.

For a painful moment, that smile reminded him of someone else all together and he swallowed down that spike of pain that threatened to happen. It was still all too real for him, too soon. Still, the face was different enough that it didn't push too long on his heart. For now, he could just start getting himself through the moor along with Vrenille. "You're miles and miles from the nearest anything, so you're right. It might have been a trip trying to get out of here." If Vrenille had been pulled from somewhere else in the world, it wasn't as if he could safely Apparate such a distance and he most likely wouldn't know anything within safe distance at all.

So first things first. He offered his arm like he might have to a lady, a wry smile on his face. "I've had to Apparate in far worse conditions." And the sad part was how true it was. As soon as he had gotten his license to do so, he had practiced until he was able to do it almost without thinking when he was fine and conscious then when he could manage it without splichering himself when he was exhausted or injured. Useful during the war, sadly.

He... assumed it was calling Apparation across the world, at least in proper English, but Remus still had quite a bit to learn about going out to other countries and assuming certain things.

Of course Vrenille had no earthly idea what this whole 'Apparation' thing was, and of course he could have just asked. But he was already under the distinct impression that he was going to have to ask quite a lot of questions about things that a person in this...land? realm? region? whatever was supposed to know. In practice, there was probably a quota, and if he went over the threshold he fully expected some very uncomfortable questions to be coming his way.

That meant he needed to reserve his queries for situations of absolute necessity, not just mild confusion or curiosity. In this case, he didn't need to know what Apparation was to understand that he was meant to take Remus's arm. The body language translated perfectly well, and anyway it was the sort of gesture that he was perfectly comfortable with. He even returned that wry smile.

Given that Remus had told him they were pretty much miles from everywhere, when he slid his hand through the crook of the young man's elbow and let his admittedly chilled fingers come to rest on Remus's forearm, he expected some method of magical travel. He just didn't have any clear idea of just what it would be. He simply had to trust and hope.

"Hold tight," Remus said in a casual way, as if it was just a formality and he expected it of the other or this was the warning he was about to go, but Vrenille would probably have one of the least comfortable moments of his life as it felt like his entire being was squeezed through a tube, nothing but horrible pressure from every side until his eyeballs felt pressed in their sockets, then all of a sudden they would be standing elsewhere on the moor, in front of a little shack.

Remus glanced to Vrenille, checking him over. "I haven't done a Side Along in a little while - all together?" Seemed like all of the limbs were in the proper place. Good to know he was still fully capable.

If Vrenille hadn't been holding tight to begin with, at the moment that the first tug of movement started he absolutely clutched to Remus for dear life. He had been through asura gates, he had teleported and blinked, he had created magic portals, and he had very routinely projected illusionary clones of himself which he shattered into smithereens the moment it suited him to do so. Nothing, however, had prepared him for the feeling of this.

When they stopped moving, which felt every bit as abrupt as when they started, he was immensely glad that he had such a strong constitution. Nevertheless, he still very much needed a moment because he certainly couldn't answer Remus's question--it was a few seconds before he felt he could speak at all, staggering to get his legs under him against the swirl of vertigo. It was a bit like having the wind knocked out of him except without the blow to the chest.

He coughed and gasped a few times, one hand extended like he hoped to find some sort of support under it. Presently though, he did manage to regain himself.

"Dwayna," he swore, "I sure hope that's not what you do for fun around these parts."

But hey, shack. Shack was good. Better than wind-blasted heather and rocks at least. "You live here?" He didn't mean for it to sound judgemental--he'd lived in worse places than this in his life--but out of context it might have sounded that way.

That reaction to the Apparation wasn't a surprise to Remus; there were plenty of wizards who refused to travel by Apparating at all and sometimes, he didn't blame them. So he merely held his place while Vrenille dealt with the after effects even though he barely felt strong enough to keep standing, then gently removed himself from Vrenille's grasp before his legs started to shake. The last thing he needed to do this morning was collapse all over again. At least not until he was in a bed.

"Not so much," Remus said dryly to the comment about 'for fun', running a hand back through his shaggy hair and taking a step towards the shack.

Then he stopped, slowly looking back towards Vrenille and frowning at that. It did sound like it was being judgmental, but unlike some others he knew, he could push it off. He always looked and lived scruffy, torn a bit and dirty, so he decided to give a small chuckle. It wasn't particularly mirthful but it was there. "No, but honestly, home isn't much better."

With that he gathered up his fallen clothing in the thin light of the dawn, then walked inside to get the rest.

Vrenille winced slightly the moment that Remus's back was turned, silently cursing at himself for that seeming ingratitude--definitely not what he was going for.

"Sorry," he said as he followed Remus into the shack. "I grew up on the streets. I am not one to judge. It's just that this place is remote. I'd get lonely as hell." That was just him, of course. He knew some people thrived on solitude. Urban spaces were very much his natural environment. He knew how to make do in them, and even when he didn't, he knew how to adapt.

Granted, at this point in his life he'd been flung into his fair share of wilderness too, but that didn't mean he liked it, even with his companions near by. This shack--the way it stood out here all alone--seemed to underscore the isolation of the moors even further. To be out here completely solo? He respected Remus for being able to do it; it would have unnerved him thoroughly.

"Where is home?" he asked, wanting to keep the conversation up (and maybe also cover the way he was watching the younger man, keenly aware that he still didn't look at all well). "I mean, keeping in mind that I might need more than the name of a town since my local geography's obviously a little lacking."

"..." Remus threw another look towards Vrenille before giving a little laugh. "It's somewhere out almost just as remote but there's a town in walking distance. I don't know you well enough to give you specifics just yet. You saw me go all toothy," a term that was almost another laugh for him. "Why do you think I need to be away from people?"

He tugged on the last of his clothing, working on buttoning his shirt up. "Sometimes, loneliness happens, by choice or circumstance." A shrug completed the statement, as sad as it sounded to hear, which showed the kind of person who was used to it but that was one giant lie. A lie which showed in his eyes if someone caught it. Something terrible had happened to bring the haunted look that showed in Remus' face before it pushed it away.

"I can get you to the Ministry, though. They're going to want to know what happened and they can get you back home, too."

Standing with his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders leaning back against the wall, Vrenille was polite enough to turn aside as Remus dressed, not watching him...or at least not overtly watching him. There were a lot of things you could learn seeing a guy naked, and all the scars on Remus's body, his thin build, these things provided a useful sort of information about the sort of person he was dealing with. They also provided for a degree of curiosity: were those scars all related to the transformation he had seen? Or were they the result of something else--some kind of restraint or torture?

It was already wildly apparent that Remus lived a life shaped in some way by that wolf Vrenille had seen him as last night. What he didn't quite understand yet were all the particulars. But the fear and the defensiveness earlier, the secrecy implicit in not wanting to say too much now, the expression that showed in the younger man's eyes before he composed himself enough to cover it--all of those were pieces of the puzzle, enough that a picture might be starting to take shape.

"Yeah, sometimes loneliness happens, but it's better when you can find someone who can help you chase it away for a while," the smile he gave dropped a hint of an offer here, but just a hint--subtle, maybe not there at all.

"So the 'toothy' thing's on a schedule, I guess. And you can never remember what happened during it, which probably means you can't control what happens during it. So that's why you come out here. And I'm guessing it's all got to stay a secret from everyone, so that's why you aren't too keen to trust me. How am I doing so far?"

Hopefully winning some points, since he wasn't sure how the next thing he was going to say would go. "I'm not too keen on Ministers--all the politics and their factions and stuff." He turned to look out a window as he spoke, trying to make himself seem casual. "Do you think we could maybe skip the Ministry bit and...you just help me?"

In point of fact, Vrenille had some pretty specific reasons for saying this. Completely moot reasons, granted, since he was no longer in his world, but he wasn't to know that. The truth of the matter was that the airship he'd been on had been carrying a passenger with a very important and delicate mission: to "retrieve" a rogue member of the Krytan Ministry who was plotting against the throne and believed to be in league with the White Mantle cult. Vrenille did not know nearly enough about political maneuverings to know just how far this Minister's network of contacts reached, but at this moment in time, Ministry and White Mantle were two factions far too close for comfort in his book. He didn't want to risk becoming a pawn in some kind of game he knew he didn't know enough to play.

Vrenille's smile might have been suggestive, but his words had a completely different effect. Remus, not looking in the other man's direction, still gave a flinch at his choice of words. His friends had been the ones to be that person. Drove away the constant fear and loneliness, gave him a sense of purpose and understanding, and birthed hope where there had only been doubt.

But he pushed it away, though the first word or so of his next question were a little off before it settled. "Are werewolves not common in your part of the world?" Remus asked, looking confused towards Vrenille. He'd never met another wizard who didn't know of them, but then again some home-schooled wizards got very different education than those who went to the big schools. "You're right so far, though. I... don't usually discuss it with people, though." Not something he was precisely keen on the idea of with a virtual stranger, either.

But how Vrenille responded to his suggestion of the Ministry made Remus look to him questioningly, now even more uncertain. On the tail end of a war, there were reasons to be more cautious than ever, but something just wasn't quite adding up. He knew that every major country had some form of the Ministry, even the Yanks managed it in their massive country, but 'Ministers'? Was it a joke?

"...I don't know what you'd expect me to do to help," he said slowly and everything in that tone suggested he was not completely sure of what was going on between them.

"Werewolves?" Was this another thing he was meant to know about? Well, if so he wasn't going to manage to feign knowledge enough to get by, certainly not when talking to somebody who was one. "No actually. Only people I know can become wolves are the norn--wolves, bears, ravens, snow leopards. I've never heard of a human who can do it at all.

"But I'm guessing what happens with you is kind of different anyway since they do it at will and usually just for a few minutes. I've never asked whether they're in control the whole time, just sort of assumed." He could ask Bertolt about that next time he saw him he guessed...whenever that turned out to be.

He turned to look at Remus again, "For what it's worth, I don't mind. I'm not scared of you and I'm not judging you for it or anything. I'd just appreciate if you could give me a heads up next time it's gonna happen."

As for what he expected Remus to do, actually, Vrenille had an answer to that. Before he could decide how to proceed with anything, he needed to get a gauge on where he really was. He made his proposal with a nonchalant sort of shrug to try and cover how much he'd been thinking about it, and of course never imagining that his desire to avoid the Ministry could potentially raise suspicions of nefarious association: "Well, you got a map?"

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Remus of a few years ago? Not nearly this jumpy. War does shit to you.

Their two experiences of war will make for fascinating comparison of notes!

Indeed!

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Bless this tag for giving me an excuse to avoid work for a few minutes.