"Thank you." She dipped her chin in acknowledgement of his apology—some of the rigidity leaving her shoulders then; she didn't comment anymore on her tainted memories—or the lies she'd been told. She truthfully didn't like to speak of it. Trauma never faded if you poked at it too often; or at least that had been her experience.
"Age may just be a number—but if you don't at least acknowledge the fact you're old and embrace it; then it'll always bother you." At this she offered a sage nod—as if she knew exactly what she was talking about. Then—she snorted; picking up a twig and throwing it at him. "First of all—too much information. I don't recall asking about your bedroom antics. Secondly; even the most dominant wolf knows when it's time to submit to another."
This was something she did know well—her own wolf had a stubborn dominant streak and didn't like to submit easily and yet; she'd submitted to Eris—during the time she'd spent as a member of the Warmheart Pack; granted Eris had utilised her dominant nature; making her something of an unofficial second. But that was besides the point. She shook off her thought to focus back on the story he told. "So—you don't actually know who cursed you?"
Her head cocked to the side then—eyes flitting to scan the scar he'd revealed. "Huh; you're lucky you weren't cut in half." Resolutely she shook her head—banishing the images those words evoked before they could take root.
"Truthfully? Nothing more terrifying than prejudiced human men—the kind that raid a village of witches and burn most—if not all of them alive. Before meeting their own ends at the claws of a wolf. Told you—mine is not a happy tale."
Gerwulf didn't mind; he meant the apology and was as sincere as he could be. Whatever Nascha wanted to keep for themselves, they were entitled to that. As for his own traumas, he just sort of adapted and laughed it off. "I prefer distinguished," He jested as she spoke of acknowledging your age, shaking his own head when she brought that bit of wisdom to the forefront. Cheeky girl, he thought as she snorted, throwing a twig that bounced off his head. Maybe it was, but he was more than used to speaking candidly like this to anyone. Shaking his head, he made a face; it was a little embarrassment crossed with something else.
"There is a slight issue with that. I used to be known for many things. We were Óðr's chosen. It transposed either with the curse or my nature, but when I turn in most circumstances. I cannot be stopped, it is either death or something else," He murmured, knowing that would be a difficult thing to explain. Embracing madness, the berserker's qualities that meant that he could not stop when it started were well known. It was why any issues related to dominance were done in human form; otherwise, his beast was worse than a monster. What other werewolf could still continue fighting and try to eat you, even after it was torn in half as a morbid example.
"Oh, I know nowadays. They live in another realm, escape it every century to run rampant according to the legends," Gerwulf answered, knowing full well that sounded insane. However, given his circumstances, it was more than likely true. "Nah, I've survived worse," false bravado, but it was obviously a joke, given the smirk upon his lips. As she spoke of the monsters that she had seen, he nodded, "Sounds about right. Humans are terrible. I lived as a slave for around forty years because of humans. Happy tales are not the stories of survivors or what happened to those who didn't; it is the spirit of what people meant. I'm not sure how to explain it; it's sort of just something you have to experience." Sighing, he moved to the skewered meat.
His hand moving out over the fire, regardless that it was at a temperature that was roasting, he gripped the spit and pulled the pole off the fire. The sound of flesh slowly sizzling could be heard as he stabbed one end next to the fireplace, allowing it to stand vertically, and pried his hand off. Shaking it for a moment, he rubbed his fingers together as ash, dust, and flecks of stuff shed from his injury. If she looked close enough, it was already gone, healing unnaturally so, as he acted as if the experience was like a mosquito bite. "Feel free to have some. My knife is by the rest of my things."
"Distinguished? Isn't that the term finely dressed gentlemen use to cover their age?" An impish gleam brightened the depths of her gaze as she trailed the golden flecked dark blues up and down the length of him in a pointed manner. "I don't see a three piece suit." She drawled; breathing out a soft sigh.
"So you go berserk; wonderful—but I bet you can be stopped; perhaps not by brute force—but magic isn't brute force; it's more cunning than that. I can think of at least three spells that would stop you." She cocked her head to the side; scanning him with open consideration. "Granted the paralysis spell would be very dangerous to try as it involves proximity—but the blood roots..." she breaks off; her mind picturing the dark red roots which got their name from the blood one had to spill to summon them. Thus the sacrifice of using dark magic. "Those I hazard could hold you—"
She shook her head then; clearing the calculations from her mind. "Not that I have need to tangle a raging cursed wolf with those—yet." She didn't comment the talk of other realms; but didn't seem surprised by it either.
"Nothing humans do surprises me anymore—and I know I know; everyone always says it's not all humans but—when you watch a group of them kill pretty much everyone you love; in the most barbaric way they could think of; it effects you." She shrugged—jolting forwards as he essentially stuck his hand in the fire to grab the spit.
"Are you crazy? You could have burned off your hand!" Leaning forward she squinted at his hand; astonished to see it had already healed.
"If I ever get the chance to bring you to a Michelin star restaurant, I'll bring my three-piece suit." His own eyes matched hers, that look that other women would usually gave the statement of 'You're wearing that?'. It was in jest, as with her own snark, shrugging as the conversation continued. "Stopped? With enough power, yes. Most probably, it hasn't happened yet," Gerwulf said, not putting forward what people usually did to stop the beast that roamed. Bloodlust could be controlled in a number of ways after all, and the other was not something he wanted to bring attention to in the presence of the young woman.
"Right, it really depends, but it could probably," He said lightly, letting her get ahead of herself as she theorized ways to stop something that she had never seen or heard of before. Gerwulf, when changed, was only around nine feet in height, weighing as much as a car, but never mind claws that were used to peel open tanks in the wars like they were cans of spam. He let her have this as she spoke of blood and sacrificial powers like they were nothing. "Of course not, I'd not let you be anywhere near me, when I need to change, I'm irresponsible, not a complete fool." He smirked as she spoke of tangling with a cursed wolf.
As for the humans, he just nodded. "It is the same with most bipeds, honestly. However, I do understand that pain. Saw my own brother get decapitated, and my family died brutal deaths as well. For me, it was a little different, but it's still a loss," He mentioned before the incident with the fire and the heated spit. When Nascha moved forward, he didn't expect any worry or reaction from her. With how she acted, even if she had become a little more open with how easily she joked. Gerwulf was still a stranger, but he couldn't help but smile as he offered her his hand.
There was just a bit of blackened and dried loose particles, as well as the telltale signs of dried or carbonized blood. However, it was just normal, large, and warm hands with soft skin. "Yes and no, it's just a little burning," Gerwulf said with a tilt of his head. He figured that he liked the girl. Most people would have done nothing, shown no emotion, given what she had been talking about in the last few minutes. It also meant that she would likely not be able to stop him if he were to be the big bad wolf. Because if she thought fire would stop, blood and spikes could deter something determined with the most bestial of instincts. "I heal faster while in full form," He chuckled and wondered what she would think or even believe.
"Do you even own a three piece suit?" She cocked her head slightly to the side—a quieter thought wondering if he could actually afford a Michelin star restaurant; because she certainly couldn't. She lifted an eyebrow at his onceover; dropping her gaze to scan over her tshirt; jeans and leather jacket. Wondering what—exactly—was wrong with what she was wearing? It was something of a uniform for her; the only thing missing was her usually combat boots. Which her magic always struggled to replicate.
"Of course—most see out of control beast and think run—rather than restrain." She of course; was not most people—she was a Kaltain; their usage of every type of magic under the sun; both good and bad—at least in the eyes of polite society. Made them something of a wild card. Not that she expected him to know that.
Theoretical uses of magic was something she often found herself thinking on; not because she intended to use it but simply because the witch in her drove her to behave somewhat scholarly on occasion. She had the urge to dig into old books and ancient tomes—to research the origins of a creature like him. To learn what was known of his kind. "You say let like you could stop me." She snorted; sticking her tongue out at him. "I'm not crazy though; so I wouldn't choose to encounter a beast such as that in the flesh. So no need to worry on that front."
She tried not to cringe when he spoke of watching someone dear to him be decapitated as if it were no big deal. Swallowing hard. "They decided burning them alive was the only thing to be done—barbaric beings. That's what humans are." She didn't even try to keep the dislike out of her tone.
Just because they were strangers—did not mean someone sticking their hand in the fire wouldn't trigger an instinctive response; it would have been the same no matter who had done it. She huffed. "Just because you heal fast doesn't mean you should go around sticking your hand in fires; you lunatic."
