-Verando's point of view-

He had run until his lungs felt they would cease to function. The cold air chilled his throat, his body chest burned with the icy breeze of the unsheltered badlands. Leaving the safety of the forest and into the void that was the barren land of long-forgotten cities. While he had struggled with the decision, the sheer lack of people had been the deciding factor.

 Verando wished to be alone, he wanted to be as far away from society while he sorted through the new siege of head trash. 

When he could run no longer, he found this might have been a mistake. Gazing into the expansive distance of empty terrain, dead cities lumbered in the distance and bore little difference from those of occupied civilizations. Smog hung heavy in the air over even the empty tombs of forgotten lives that had slowly been overtaken by time. 

It was much like being trapped on a wheel, running endlessly with no destination.

Scenting the air, there was little to be had in the crisp cold and blowing snow. His tracks long since covered, backtracking to the familiarity of the woods would no longer be an option. He'd run for far too long and covered too much distance. The fear of continuing to run was mounting, there was no vantage point, no ability to climb high enough to see into the distance and track a society to harbor for the night. 

Verando had decided on the nearest giant, the dark buildings only continued to disintegrate into something that might have resembled a town the closer he got. The odd shapes of the buildings long worn over time would have to suffice as far as protection from the elements yet upon inspection, he found the space to confining. 

The open rooms void of furniture, robbed and burgled at the beginning of their plague on society, sleeping in a dark empty room did nothing for his damaged mental state. Shaking the snow from his coat, the shiver had begun to set in as his body began to cool. Cold was not something he was used to, the chill couldn't often touch him. 

Perhaps it was my magic leaching energy from the only source available to it.

As night began to fall and the temperature began to drop, he opted for an overpass that had collapsed in the center. The connection to the graded land was partially blocked by the chunk of concrete dangling from its edge. Climbing among the wreckage, he crawled his way as close to the seam as he could manage, wedging his body between the rocks and the chilled concrete.

 Void of light, the tunnel seemed a fitting place to succumb to hypothermia. 

A lone wolf on his own was vulnerable, while he'd done it before, he hadn't quite envisioned the amount of snowfall ravaging the open land. The howling wind did nothing to calm his creeping nerves, running over his skin like panicked spiders shrouded in worry and anxiety. Every crack and noise prompted his attention, the growing concern that the overpass might give way to the weight of the snow was a very real fear as well. 

With heavy eyes, the pounding of his heart began to subside. Too long without restful sleep, not even the nightmares could stir him. He allowed for sleep, grateful for the relief from consciousness if only to face the new foe of nightmares. 

Sleep felt like it lasted longer than time itself. At times he almost surfaced only to plunge back into the darkness of total unconsciousness. His body felt heavy, unusable, not even a dream could conjure in the blackness of total sleep. When he managed to open his eyes, it was quite different than the stone makeup of the overpass. 

He was lying on a rug, the pile felt stiff and course under his fingertips. The scent of mildew and soot heavy in his nose, he coughed and pushed himself shakily up onto his palms. He must have shifted at some point, perhaps the wolf was too lonely to want to expose himself. Nearby, the gentle crackle of a fire drew his eye into the aged fireplace. 

The room was mostly made of wood, a strange commodity in this current time with a few 'antique' pieces here and there coupled with pieces of furniture one might of seen in his own time. 

For one small moment, it almost felt like it could have been his own time. Rolling onto his hip, he briefly pondered if the whole thing had been a dream but in a quick inventory of his body and spying the ring on his finger, he knew that was not so. 

Verando ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the ache in his body as he slowly moved into a more comfortable sitting position. "Oh. You're awake- Oh!!" The woman drops her stack of laundry in favor of covering her eyes. "I- Oh lord! I knew you weren't a wolf- I didn't- here! Here are some clothes!" 

With a small eye roll, he carefully stands and accepts the clothes, too small in length but decent enough to cover him from her sensitive eyes. Her reddened full face stays firmly on the ground until she dares look and see him covered. 

"Are you alright?" she finally asks. "You nearly caught your death out there... my grandfather found you tracking this morning with Badger." 

Spying the named animal in the doorway, the fluffy dog wags its tail yet doesn't dare come any closer. 

"I'm fine." He would spare her the gory details. "Thank you for bringing me here. I won't burden you any longer." Patting over his body, he cursed to realize that his equipment had been left behind under the overpass.

Pursing her lips, she adjusts her sweater on her full figure. "Would you like some dinner? We're about snowed in, probably can't travel until tomorrow anyways."

Much as he would like to wallow in his self-pity, he was starving and her sweet face looked quite innocent as she gazed up at him with large brown eyes hidden behind slender glasses. Her hair pulled up into a messy bun, stray strands falling to frame her face. 

"That would be lovely." 

The acceptance caused her to beam and she motioned for him to follow as she led him through the warm house to the small kitchen. 

The older man approaching caused him to tense and jerk to the side, unwilling to allow anyone out of his line of sight. Raising his eyebrows in surprise at Verando's towering height, the older man sat in one of the chairs at the small table. 

"Wondered if you were dead!" he scoffs, stroking his whiskered chin. "Didn't expect ya to be a damned giant. Figured ya were a lycan, by the looks of ya. Not a wolf I've seen that size, haven't seen a lycan around here in quite some time." 

"I won't cause you any trouble," Verando reassures him and the man chuckles, gesturing to his fireplace in the cozy living room. 

"I know ya won't. Been hunting your kind for quite some time, gave it up a long time ago when it seemed more about killing folks and less about keeping people safe." On the mantle rested two guns and a case of silver bullets. "I'm retired now. You won't harm me, I won't harm you. Seems to be the way it works with your kind."

Pressing his lips together, he opts to say nothing as he enters the kitchen. "Can I help you?" He offers the woman who nearly drops her casserole. He grips the edge, helping her steady it and flinching at the heated glass. 

"Oh no! You're a guest, please sit down." Her cheeks redden as she quickly turns away and brings the dish to the table. He sighs but opts for obedience and moves to sit as well. "I'm Jenny, by the way." She brushes a strand out of her face, setting a plate down in front of him. "That's my grandfather, Claus."

"Randy." Verando seemed to trigger too many people into realizing who he was. 

"Don't look like a 'Randy'," Claus grumbles, taking a heaping helping of the casserole and placing it in front of the taller man. "Never met a lycan with a name like that. Normally you're all more complex, weird names and such."

"Papa." Jenny hisses, swatting him. "The man can be called whatever he wants to be. You don't save a fella from hypothermia then shame him for his name." With an apologetic smile, she sits across from him. "Sorry. He has a hard time leaving the past behind him."

Verando doesn't attempt to remedy the suspicion, sometimes justifying it would only worsen matters. "I'll be out of your way first thing in the morning."

"Where are you going?" Claus asks curiously.

"France."

With a nod, this seems to settle the aged man, face wrinkled and scarred for a lifetime of hunting. The wirey hand had a slight tremble to it as he ate. "Joining the resistance? Can respect that in a man. Traveling on your own isn't easy."

Right now, he just wanted to be alone. Much as he wasn't a fan of the bland pasta coated in some type of gravy-like sauce, he wouldn't dare complain or suggest otherwise. He was hungry enough that she could have fed him anything and he might have taken it. 

"You don't say much..." Claus almost accuses, causing him to stifle an irritated sigh. 

Jenny kicks the old man under the table, producing a string of curses. 

"I'm so sorry, Randy. We live out on the edge of the city by ourselves, we don't get much for visitors. Papa will mind his manners." She glares daggers at the old man who practically sticks out his tongue. The small display brings the tiniest hints of smiles to the corner of his mouth, threatening to dimple his cheek. 

"It's fine. I'm being rude."

"You are." Claus insists. "You young men think you have to be so mysterious. Lighten up."

Verando allows for a chuckle, "I wouldn't say I have been called 'young' in quite some time."

Jenny watches him with wide eyes, "Sir, you don't look a day over thirty-five... well, save for the hair if you don't mind my saying. I'd fair to say you could be younger than me." 

This surprised him because the woman looked quite young herself, he'd of put her in her late twenties. 

"I'm coming on fifty now if I could guess." Poking at his food, he stiffens at the firm clap on the back of the hand that felt like it could be made of wrought iron.

"Well, fifty would mean you were quite a young man to me. Maybe finish growing out that beard and we can talk about some age." Reguarding him curiously, Claus nods, almost palpating the muscle on the lycan as he squeezes his shoulder. "You're strong. How about you help me in the morning and we'll send you along with some supplies for your travels. Maybe a map, too. If I feel so inclined." 

Parting his lips to turn away the help, the look on the young woman's face encouraged him to accept. Her hopeful eyes perhaps were more in favor of him doing her chores for her but he would accept such conditions if it meant no trouble. He was ready to get back on the road, away from prying eyes and the hopeful glint of a woman who admired his form.

After helping her clean up after dinner, he retired for the evening. Opting to sleep closest to the window, floor level, with his back to the wall then sleep in the bed. It would be easier to escape should it become necessary without having to deal with crossing the room. 

As morning came, he was awakened by Jenny carefully knocking and entering with a tray and some new clothes. Her eyes widen in surprise as he stands, quickly averting to the ground again. "Did you not like the bed?"

"It was fine." He doesn't explain as he eyes the clothes and she smiles broadly.

"Papa found these clothes that might fit you a bit better. I'm sorry, I didn't realize how tall you were. I also brought you some breakfast." 

"Thank you. When I get my pack I'll pay you."  

"Oh it's no trouble..." She lingers, catching her lower lip in her teeth as he accepts the items. "So.. you're married?"

Verando follows her gaze to his ring and makes a face. "You would not want me if you knew what an asshole I can be, or of the terrible things I've done." It's as honest of an answer as he'd given since he arrived here. "Besides, you're not my... type." 

Her face falls and he curses at himself. It was a poor thing to say, he hadn't intended to hurt her. 

"Not that way-"

"I understand. I know I'm a bit larger... I shouldn't have-" The way her face fell tugged at his heartstrings, while he was unsure why he allowed it to bother him so much, it had not been his intention to knock her confidence. 

Verando sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Actually, I quite prefer full-figured women. But, well... I'm married to a man." 

Her eyes widen and she hides behind her tray, red-faced.

"Well, that explains why you're so helpful. Mama always said gay men were much like women. Aint nothing for it then, I guess. Waste of a good man, it is." Her cutting tone brought him to a pause, shocked by the sudden shift. "I must say, I didn't mistake you for a queer. You don't much sound like one either, but you can't fix when one likes to be buggered though-" 

The phrase jolts him, sending his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted her to stop talking, the wolf began to pace in his cage, wanting out, wanting to escape. He didn't want it to happen.. he didn't ask for Caspian to- 

"Preacher always says that it's the Devil's work to make a man-"

Verando interrupts her by slamming the clothes on the small desk, making her jump. He couldn't stand another word, unable to stomach such an accusation, unable to believe somewhere there was a person in this world who believed that he wanted what Caspian had done to him. 

"That's quite enough. Mind your place when speaking to a stranger, you know not the danger that you are in. Speaking to me of a bloody devil when the least of my sins has been loving a man." His body shook, the wolf fighting to get out and defend itself from the verbal assault. "Now. Please excuse me. I've lost my appetite." 

Taking the clothes to the bathroom, he opted to change quickly and meet Claus in the front yard. The dog, Badger, ran over to lay at his feet as if it somehow belonged at his heel. This seemed to amuse Claus, all the while Verando was trying to come up with a way to prevent bloodshed should the man find out about the altercation between him and Jenny. 

"So Jenny tells me you're a pansy?"

"Excuse me?"

Claus chuckles. "A man lover. Gave her quite a shock, wish I could have seen it. Never understood it, not my place to... teach the girl to mind her own business. Maybe keep it to yourself though, next time."

"I'm not ashamed," Verando remarks firmly, jaw tight. 

With a shrug, the man motions for him to follow. "No, but others will be for you and it muddies the conversation."

 With a heavy sigh, he follows behind the limping gentleman, adjusting the pants and belt that are slightly too large for his hips. They enter a barn and Verando hesitates as he spots a large rug and some lit candles. 

"Are you planning to sacrifice me?" Verando asks, resting his hands on his hips as he surveys how he might handle dispatching this aged man. He supposed it'd be easy enough to impale the man with the pitchfork. 

With a chuckle, Claus moves to have a seat on the far end of the rug. "That's a thought. No. I'm not."

"Well, I'd like to inform you I'm married if this is your idea of getting your kicks-"

"Just sit down!" Claus commands. 

Verando lowers himself into a cross-legged position. 

"I'm a slayer, that much is true but I'm also a mystic." With a bony, crooked finger, he points to Badger who had not left the Lycan's side. "That dog found you for a reason, just as it stares at you now. People have a way of finding me when they need something. It's why I stopped slaying, it wasn't fair to those who just needed help..." 

Verando retracts and Claus exhales in an attempt to settle him. "Take my help if you want it or don't. The choice is yours."

"How can you possibly help me?" He didn't need anyone's help or want it. He just wanted to be alone.

"You tell me. I could feel it when I touched you last night. You are overwhelmingly sad. You want to take your life."

This was nothing new, those feelings had followed him for a good portion of his life. "Everyone has periods of sadness."

"You're also angry. So angry."

"What's your point, old man?" Verando snaps, growling low in his throat. "This is nothing new, nothing that can be remedied. You can't take away what's happened."

"What happened?" Claus asks, his voice even. The hesitation catches him, almost as if he can't even breathe should he try to utter the words. "My ability allows me to organize thoughts, it allows me to shed light on these feelings of anguish. It won't take it away but maybe you can start to heal."

Quickly, he stands, clutching his fists tightly as if violence might be the only reasonable answer to such accusations. "Why would you have any interest in helping me? A stranger?"

Claus sighs, smoothing out his pants and gesturing for him to return to his seat. "Because I have killed so many people, good people, who might not have done bad things if someone had helped them. Because you aren't even heading towards France, you found me because you needed my help. Now. Stop making a fool out of yourself, I'm certainly not afraid of you. Sit your ass down, be a man, and tell me what it is that is troubling you so much."

Reluctantly, he lowers himself back down into an uncertain sitting position. Claus is unmoving, his hand doesn't retract until the lycan is fully seated and collectively they sigh. Badger lays beside him, resting his head in his lap in the familiar pressing that he finds calming. Verando lays his hand on the dog's head, steadying his racing heart. 

"That's the problem. I don't know what's wrong with me. Telling you feels like betraying my husband, I don't tell him anything because he cares too much. I don't want him to pity me, I don't deserve to be loved. People looking at me as if I'm broken as if I don't already know how fucked up I am, I just want to be alone."

"Well, how dramatic of you." 

The dig makes him smirk, chuckling lightly. "You'd be surprised how often I hear that."