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"Yeah, the drinking does that a person," Gladio agrees. 'swhy I don't do it.
"It never does. That's why you have to consider taking care of yourself before you get here," he notes as he guides them outside.
"Best way to fix that is to practice."
Because it can be that simple, once in a while.
Because it can be that simple, once in a while.
"A nice walk," he says with a smile. "It's going well so far."
"I'd say you always have the option for me, but we both know we take our duties seriously," he says with a shrug.
Really? Gladio smiles at that. How interesting to see the man being so forward.
"I'm glad that you enjoy that about me.
"I'm glad that you enjoy that about me.
"And you're hoping to get to enjoy still more about me?"
And he smiles like he really appreciates that potential.
And he smiles like he really appreciates that potential.
Basch flushes, but his arm is through this man's; what is he so afraid of?
"Yes," he says, glancing at Gladio. He's rewarded with an encouraging smile, and, gods, are those butterflies in his stomach? "I feel a fool for fretting over it for so long and not simply telling you. This was not the reaction I expected."
"Yes," he says, glancing at Gladio. He's rewarded with an encouraging smile, and, gods, are those butterflies in his stomach? "I feel a fool for fretting over it for so long and not simply telling you. This was not the reaction I expected."
"Fear of rejection is pretty much a constant in most people," Gladio says with a shrug. "Makes you nervous, makes it harder to decide on things, or commit if someone can say no. I get it too."
"It's a skill. You can learn it."
Anyone can learn it. Gladio'd had no choice but to learn it.
Anyone can learn it. Gladio'd had no choice but to learn it.
"We're not dogs," Gladio points out. Of course they can learn new things. They're people.
He knows he does. Points are something that are on the tips of swords and he has plenty of those. Okay, that's the joke had, in his head so he doesn't seem silly, and he smiles at Basch.
"I try to. But I have faith in you too. You're not so old that you can't choose to change. And you've got an open mind, which helps."
"I try to. But I have faith in you too. You're not so old that you can't choose to change. And you've got an open mind, which helps."
[ He has no awareness when he is in the deepest throes of transformation. It is one of the things that pains him most; reason does not matter, and more often than not, he cannot remember his actions. It is possible that the townsfolk have accused him of pure rumor, as humes will do when faced with fear.
But it is also possible that the truth in those rumors is more than mere seeds. That is what he fears most, and so he tries to keep himself to remote places before the change comes on.
That is how he comes to be in this remote section of would beyond a difficult pass in the mountains. Still, there are other humans who wish to be remote, and so, a massive wolf with sandy hair, he's gorging himself on a stray sheep he plucked from a passing flock when the first stirring of something strange strikes him. Even as a wolf, he recognizes the heralds of the transformation back. It is painful, and vulnerable. He whines, not wanting to relinquish his meal, but another strum of it, harder and stronger than ought to happen, and he's barreling off to find some protected hollow to hide in.
Except the change comes too fast, and utterly uneven. Lupine whines and snarls turn to the groans of a man, and when Olivine finds him, he's shaking and naked, his shape mostly human, but his hind legs still wolven, his ears and tail still pointedly wear, and thick fur covering his legs. Scars cover his skin, and sweat breaks over his body. ]
But it is also possible that the truth in those rumors is more than mere seeds. That is what he fears most, and so he tries to keep himself to remote places before the change comes on.
That is how he comes to be in this remote section of would beyond a difficult pass in the mountains. Still, there are other humans who wish to be remote, and so, a massive wolf with sandy hair, he's gorging himself on a stray sheep he plucked from a passing flock when the first stirring of something strange strikes him. Even as a wolf, he recognizes the heralds of the transformation back. It is painful, and vulnerable. He whines, not wanting to relinquish his meal, but another strum of it, harder and stronger than ought to happen, and he's barreling off to find some protected hollow to hide in.
Except the change comes too fast, and utterly uneven. Lupine whines and snarls turn to the groans of a man, and when Olivine finds him, he's shaking and naked, his shape mostly human, but his hind legs still wolven, his ears and tail still pointedly wear, and thick fur covering his legs. Scars cover his skin, and sweat breaks over his body. ]
[Olivine is painfully aware of the instincts of fearful folk. it makes their testimonies shaky, though their concerns are no less valid. if something is terrorising the townsfolk, no matter the reason, something must be done. no person has actually been injured, which is a good sign.
soothing the masses comes first, aided by his reputation as a priest and a protector. his vow is to see to what's happening, to see that their lives are set right—nothing more or less. and so, it's with that in mind that he sets out among the trees. they've spoken of something like a wolf, sandy-furred and too large to be natural. there are a few possibilities thereby, based on his readings, but the priest doesn't want to make assumptions too soon. his feet are sure on the mountainous terrain, even when rocks and pebbles crackle down its surface, unearthed from beneath the dust and caked dirt.
it's the sound of a whine that pulls his attention first, too late to catch the knells of the sheep as he was. he finds that along the path, follows the passing, clumsy sounds into the thick of it all. it stops abruptly for the change, not that he knows that first—whines and snarls rising and fading into the night.
shaking, naked—Olivine can't tell if he's aware, but the sight of him informs a lot of what is and isn't happening here. a werewolf, he's fairly certain; he's never seen one, but there are few creatures that would be this... stuck in between. sweating and scarred, and the priest's brows knit compassionately as he steps forward. a twig snaps underfoot, and he already has his hands up in a semblance of surrender.]
Are you able to understand me?
[the voice that speaks is soft and worried, resonant even in this area. bright green eyes trail over Basch's body in search of injuries, trying to see past whatever blood must be from the earlier sheep. still, he's sure he's in pain, based on the way he's curled up, the scars. it's a danger to be so disarmed even so, but he doesn't care. if he attacks, Olivine will adjust in kind.]
soothing the masses comes first, aided by his reputation as a priest and a protector. his vow is to see to what's happening, to see that their lives are set right—nothing more or less. and so, it's with that in mind that he sets out among the trees. they've spoken of something like a wolf, sandy-furred and too large to be natural. there are a few possibilities thereby, based on his readings, but the priest doesn't want to make assumptions too soon. his feet are sure on the mountainous terrain, even when rocks and pebbles crackle down its surface, unearthed from beneath the dust and caked dirt.
it's the sound of a whine that pulls his attention first, too late to catch the knells of the sheep as he was. he finds that along the path, follows the passing, clumsy sounds into the thick of it all. it stops abruptly for the change, not that he knows that first—whines and snarls rising and fading into the night.
shaking, naked—Olivine can't tell if he's aware, but the sight of him informs a lot of what is and isn't happening here. a werewolf, he's fairly certain; he's never seen one, but there are few creatures that would be this... stuck in between. sweating and scarred, and the priest's brows knit compassionately as he steps forward. a twig snaps underfoot, and he already has his hands up in a semblance of surrender.]
Are you able to understand me?
[the voice that speaks is soft and worried, resonant even in this area. bright green eyes trail over Basch's body in search of injuries, trying to see past whatever blood must be from the earlier sheep. still, he's sure he's in pain, based on the way he's curled up, the scars. it's a danger to be so disarmed even so, but he doesn't care. if he attacks, Olivine will adjust in kind.]
[ He hears the man approaching, but all he can do is try to stifle his moans. His entire body aches and burns, cramps worsened by the rapidness of the change. He wants to thrash with pain. It will draw attention, though, so he tries to be still.
No use. That twig snaps and he snarls, trying to push himself up on all fours, except his limps aren't right, and his nose feels dull. His eyes swim, unfocused and heavy as he pants, trying to focus on the figure.
The words come slowly, like they're far away and muffled. He's still for a long moment, struggling to keep himself propped on his arms. If it had been someone else who found him, they very well may have taken him for a monster, bloodied and scarred, snarling and panting.
But, at last, he nods once, ears back and shoulders tense, but making no move toward aggression. Something feels off. He shouldn't have changes this fast, and his mind and senses are reeling trying to catch up, but he doesn't feel like whatever it is is dangerous, and so he doesn't bolt. Not that he'd get very far on this half-changed body. ]
No use. That twig snaps and he snarls, trying to push himself up on all fours, except his limps aren't right, and his nose feels dull. His eyes swim, unfocused and heavy as he pants, trying to focus on the figure.
The words come slowly, like they're far away and muffled. He's still for a long moment, struggling to keep himself propped on his arms. If it had been someone else who found him, they very well may have taken him for a monster, bloodied and scarred, snarling and panting.
But, at last, he nods once, ears back and shoulders tense, but making no move toward aggression. Something feels off. He shouldn't have changes this fast, and his mind and senses are reeling trying to catch up, but he doesn't feel like whatever it is is dangerous, and so he doesn't bolt. Not that he'd get very far on this half-changed body. ]
Good... good. I'm not going to hurt you, but I am going to approach. Are you injured? I should be able to provide any healing you need.
[with those words, he does shift to move, stepping forward with an intake of breath. the scent of blood is strong, even to his nose... it's not as heavy and nauseating as something corrupted, but it certainly is notable. even still, once he's close enough to both observe Basch properly and also see his responses. there's no sense in assuming the were can speak in this moment, so he doesn't, instead moving as one might expect a man who's approaching a wary animal, intending to soothe uncertainty before assisting.
he's still mid-transformation... Olivine has to wonder if that's normal. werecreatures are rare, so the information on them is sparse at best, and it's a little frustrating. even whether they're this way because of a curse, or lineage, or sme other reason... there's just no information to help. his instinct to care for this man is still strong, and he doesn't know how. not yet, at least.]
[with those words, he does shift to move, stepping forward with an intake of breath. the scent of blood is strong, even to his nose... it's not as heavy and nauseating as something corrupted, but it certainly is notable. even still, once he's close enough to both observe Basch properly and also see his responses. there's no sense in assuming the were can speak in this moment, so he doesn't, instead moving as one might expect a man who's approaching a wary animal, intending to soothe uncertainty before assisting.
he's still mid-transformation... Olivine has to wonder if that's normal. werecreatures are rare, so the information on them is sparse at best, and it's a little frustrating. even whether they're this way because of a curse, or lineage, or sme other reason... there's just no information to help. his instinct to care for this man is still strong, and he doesn't know how. not yet, at least.]
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