"I've been around a long, long time, pup. You've no idea what I've seen up until now in my life." Ivar is rarely surprised these days after such a lengthy life. He's seen things that even Billy, with all his strange experiences, would hardly believe.
"Exactly. I was a very small wolf pup at first." His face gets a guarded expression when Billy asks how old he was when he turned. It's the first time he's looked less then calm and matter-of-fact like he has the whole time. "Werewolves activate their blessing by killing someone. I was five when it happened." The firm tone makes it clear he doesn't want to answer any more questions regarding the subject. Even now, all these centuries later, he still hates to think of that day.
"Man, half the time I have no idea what I've seen in my own life." Billy leaned even further into Ivar's shoulder and lets his eyes fall closed.
Billy can't see Ivar's face but he can here the shift in his tone and he knows he's pushed a button that was over the line. "Oh. I'm sorry you had to go through that." He knows he came from an incredibly different time, where killing wasn't the crime it was now, but it clearly affected him on a deep level.
He squeezes Ivar's thigh gently, offering comfort.
Ivar gets very moody and quiet when Billy says he's sorry and then squeezes his thigh. It sounds too much like pity to him and combined with the fact that he's already tetchy about people touching his legs in general makes him a bit grumpy.
Abruptly, he shifts off the couch, fast enough that Billy flops right over without Ivar to prop him up. "I'll be going to get that food now." He starts to remove the clothes he'd put on. He'll need these for when he gets back.
Billy flinches, both from the fall and from the knowledge that he said the wrong thing -a fact that doesn't really surprise him, but frustrates him all the same.
"Ivar." He doesn't say sorry again, but he does watch Ivar from his new position laying on the couch. "Thank you."
Ivar finishes shucking off the last of the borrowed clothes. There's a moment of gut-wrenching cracks and snaps as his bones, tendons, and muscles reconfigure themselves into that of his wolf form. Then he's standing there in the wreckage of the home, a wolf big enough to compete with some ponies for size.
He nods once at Billy. "Get some sleep. Then he trots off on padded paws. He's gone for about forty-five minutes. Regardless of his size, it still takes time and skill to catch creatures to eat. He fills his own belly first before he snaps the neck of a rabbit or two to bring back to Billy. He returns as the early morning hours approach. He walks back into the house, two scraps of bloody fur being held in his massive jaws.
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"Exactly. I was a very small wolf pup at first." His face gets a guarded expression when Billy asks how old he was when he turned. It's the first time he's looked less then calm and matter-of-fact like he has the whole time. "Werewolves activate their blessing by killing someone. I was five when it happened." The firm tone makes it clear he doesn't want to answer any more questions regarding the subject. Even now, all these centuries later, he still hates to think of that day.
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Billy can't see Ivar's face but he can here the shift in his tone and he knows he's pushed a button that was over the line. "Oh. I'm sorry you had to go through that." He knows he came from an incredibly different time, where killing wasn't the crime it was now, but it clearly affected him on a deep level.
He squeezes Ivar's thigh gently, offering comfort.
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Abruptly, he shifts off the couch, fast enough that Billy flops right over without Ivar to prop him up. "I'll be going to get that food now." He starts to remove the clothes he'd put on. He'll need these for when he gets back.
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"Ivar." He doesn't say sorry again, but he does watch Ivar from his new position laying on the couch. "Thank you."
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He nods once at Billy. "Get some sleep. Then he trots off on padded paws. He's gone for about forty-five minutes. Regardless of his size, it still takes time and skill to catch creatures to eat. He fills his own belly first before he snaps the neck of a rabbit or two to bring back to Billy. He returns as the early morning hours approach. He walks back into the house, two scraps of bloody fur being held in his massive jaws.