Delarn went limp the moment the figure hit her, but there were many different sensations that she felt that she couldn't quite make heads or tails of. The most prominent was the sense of familiarity with the figure, as if he was someone she had known well, or that he was meant to be. The second thing was the sense of being in a very similar situation as the breath was knocked out of her, hitting the ground hard, and the figure looming over her with vapid breath. His teeth weren't immediately notable until he drew closer and they seemed to grow thicker and sharper, canines extending outward.

Unlike the last time she felt this sensation, she was less afraid, or rather less certain of her inability to get away despite his grip on her shoulders that felt like iron clamping down. She immediately kicked out and caught him in the ribs, filling with revulsion as the kick felt like it was sliding off actual bones more than flesh. Those dark eyes widened and a snarl tore from his throat and went through him like a vibration. He lifted Delarn up a bit by the front of her shirt, intent on smashing her against the ground, but a blast of magic hit him in the side. The force of the strike knocked him over, but he managed to keep his grip enough to bring Delarn down with him.

Delarn landed on top, however, and his grip still loosened enough for her to scramble away, moving on her hands and feet much like a wolf, though not quite shifting. His sharp nails nearly tore a hole in her shirt, but she managed to get away with it intact. As she stared at him, watching him slowly change and grow in shape and size, she felt a tickling sensation in the back of her mind like a mockery. Why wasn't she turning into a wolf as well? Was she too ashamed to change in front of the wizard? No, she thought. She was afraid of him and his advances and how entirely foreign she was to him, but not him seeing her for what she was.

The only way she could describe what she was seeing in front of her was a werewolf. He was hulking and strangely human in his form, covered in thick orange fur that looked almost unnatural in its own way. Delarn could make out bones that jutted from his figure as if there wasn't enough skin, as if he should be dripping with blood from a heinous wound, but overall he seemed bloodless. The only thing that seemed to motivate him was destroying her, and she only realized that a second after she realized that she had spent too long observing him as he sprang at her again.

She managed to sidestep him, but just barely, rolling out of the way. He turned on his heels and ran after her in pursuit on all fours before towering over her, rising on his back legs like a bear. Delarn was stunned at this sight, feeling another wave of familiarity. She rose to her feet after the roll and was frozen a moment before his clawed hand hit her like a club and sent her sprawling. She felt another twinge of mockery tickling the back of her brain, and she was starting to imagine that it wasn't merely in her head at all. It was another insistent plea that she change into a wolf, filling her to the brim with mockery for her reluctance.

One thing she noticed about this creature was that unlike most things that she saw with her eyes that were near-sighted and unable to make out much, he seemed to be clear to her. Some things were clear to her, and it was usually things that were unnaturally magical. Only now that she tried to drag herself back to her feet to try to fight—or more likely defending herself—she felt a sharp pain in her side that left her gasping for breath. She feared something was punctured or broken, and suddenly even this creature was blurry in her vision.

She thought she could make out Glen beyond it as well, and she wondered why he wasn't doing anything. There was a clear shot from where he was standing, but he wasn't moving. He was just a definite shape in the distance. She found herself getting angry at the thought that he was just watching it kill her as if he thought that he rudeness justified her being murdered. "Damn you," she tried to say, but she found that only blood was coming from her mouth and everything was quickly growing blacker around her.

She could feel herself being lifted up and all she could make out were those cold, deep, dark blue void eyes. She chuckled as she thought this was the most humiliating death she had experienced.

She opened her eyes and felt immediately that she wasn't dead. Everything was too blurry and painful for her to be dead as she knew it. She groaned as she tried to sit up, but the pain was sharp, and so she laid back.

"Ah! Merci! You're awake," Talem said as he had been sitting by her bed. "Glen here told me that you were attacked by a monster, and he killed it, but not before it did you terrible injury. I caught him taking you back to his room. What a kind man, bringing you into his own living quarters to heal you!"

"He killed it?" Delarn answered blankly, closing her eyes for a minute or two. She could still see it inches in front of her face, prepared to rip her apart. In the state she was in, it could have killed her just with a good throw. She was practically dead as it was as far as she knew when she had blacked out.

"As he says," Talem said with a solemn nod.

"I did," Glen said impatiently, feeling he wasn't given enough credit for what he did. "I was charging a spell, and it had you in its grip, but I released the spell at the last minute, and it practically disintegrated. I guess it was weak against water. It was hard enough stabilizing you after."

"He had time to collect the reward after as well," Talem added helpfully. He took a small pouch from the bedside table and handed it to her, offering his hand to her to assist her with sitting up. She took his offered hand, and after she was comfortably sitting up, she weighed the pouch in her hand before pouring the coins out into her other hand. It was a meager amount.

"This is what they gave you for killing it?" She asked.

"That's right," Glen answered. "Half of it. That half is for you."

"Are you telling me that you killed that creature and he only gave us this much?" Delarn asked, her eyes narrowing at the coins for a moment before looking up at him.

"There was no proof that we actually killed it. I could barely get that much out of him," he spat back. "You know, for someone that would have been dead if I wasn't there to save you you're quick to jump to implications."

Delarn's expression softened and filled with guilt as she tried to backpedal, saying, "I just woke up. I don't know what's what and I thought maybe–well, I don't know. I'm sorry. It's not that I doubt you."

"That's right. You shouldn't doubt me," he answered, immediately crossing the room to the door and tugging it open. Talem rolled his eyes the moment he slammed it before noticing how shaken Delarn was by the encounter.

"You don't owe him anything; you know that don't you?" He asked.

"He did save my life," she replied softly.

"Would your life not need to be saved if he was there or not? What would you have been doing there without him?" Talem retorted. "I hope you don't believe you owe me for the bite on my shoulder when you were simply setting boundaries."

It took her a moment to register what he had said, and she replied, "You recognize me?"

"I'd have to be daft and blind not to," he answered. "It's an interesting trick. It is a trick, no?"

She immediately knew he was asking whether or not it too was something she could naturally do or not.

"It's a trick, yes. I can show you how to do this one or I can at least give you a few vials of what I make for it," she replied. "It's that obvious—that we're the same person?"

"Do so few look directly at you for you to think someone would be so fooled?" He answered incredulously. "Would it be too much to ask you one more thing? It may come across as too intrusive."

"I don't mind," she answered softly, finding that she found him captivating in the way he saw her in such a way that refusing simply wasn't an option.

"Is there a reason you do it? A reason that you change yourself like this?" He asked.

"It's easier to hide away like this," she answered noncommittally. It wasn't convincing, and though it wasn't quite defensive, there was definitely a protective hesitance about it.

"Does—I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you like this. Do you go by the same name or something different?" He asked.

"Delarn," she replied softly.

"Does Delarn cower? Does she hide what she prefers and doesn't? Does she care what others think of her, or does she flinch at the blows and keeps her head bowed?" He asked firmly. "Is she even a she?"

"I was born one, yes. I don't care either way. I suppose when push comes to shove I'm what I was born as though perhaps I take pride in being a man as well," she answered, her voice wispy and light as if it might simply blow away.

"And does Delarn hide herself when push comes to shove?" He said, not wanting her to deviate from the others things he asked her.

"No, she doesn't," Delarn answered. "When it comes down to it she—I would do anything to be seen and to survive. I've made so many mistakes that it's almost too heavy, but I want to live. I want to be seen."

"And you will. You deserve the same comforts as anyone else, and you don't owe anything to any man or woman. Understand?" He told her, folding his arms.

"I don't believe I can say that," she answered quietly.

"Oh?" He replied, appearing ready to yell at her.

"I owe you quite a bit," she offered, "for speaking to me like this."

"This?" He replied though he appeared a bit surprised and a bit flustered, turning about a few times. "This is nothing. Why don't you get some rest?"

"I don't want to rest here," she answered, reaching out for him. It took him only a moment before he was wrapping his arms around her and supporting her, helping her stand and helping her walk out of the room. She felt deep aches all over, but it wasn't so bad that she couldn't walk and couldn't move. She studied him a few times when she thought he wasn't paying attention though she knew he was all the while.

He sat her in her bed, making sure she was comfortable. "Please stay for a while," she asked him, and he obliged, sitting on the bed beside her though they talked little after she was back in her own room.

After a while, as she blinked drowsily, he asked her suddenly, "Would you mind showing me your trick? I'm curious. I want to know what it's like and perhaps it will help me understand you a bit better."

"I think you understand me quite well," she answered sleepily, "but if it's what you want, then I would be glad to oblige you."