"So because someone couldn't keep his eyes to himself..." I glared pointedly at Brynjolf. "This is an option." Grabbing a few snowberries from nearby, I smeared them on Brynjolf's face and chest, ignoring that tiny voice in my head. "What I need you to do is run up to the gates, acting like the hounds of Oblivion are behind you- because that's what we're gonna do."

Bryn raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So you want me to run up to a bunch of armed mercenaries while screaming about werewolves, while you turn and pretend to eat my heart out?"

I nodded. "Sounds about right. Most people would flee if they saw a werewolf, including bandits and mercenaries."

"You sound like you have experience in this sort of thing," Brynjolf commented, and all I could do was stay silent. "Ah. Well... shall we?"

"Hold on." I stripped down to the basic shirt and pants under my armor. "I don't want to lose my uniform."

Brynjolf appeared curious. "I take it whatever you're wearing gets destroyed?"

"Usually, yeah." Closing my eyes, I pushed aside my doubts and grasped onto that little part of me I'd forced down. The wolf howled excitedly as I took it, bringing it back to be a part of me. "Brynjolf? You go ahead and start running."