"It's not magic. At least, not like magic normally is. I think. I didn't learn it, I..." Janius itched at the back of his head. He was very relieved that Kaleeth seemed to have an open and uninfluenced mind about it. "I suppose you could say it was given to me. Some people call it a gift, some call it a disease. Blessing, curse. It's all of those things. Most people associate it with daedra worship, with uncontrolled killing, or just with plain hate. Many people are scared of me and others like me." He looked ahead, he wasn't sure he was comfortable with her intense look. Especially because he knew exactly what it was, even on an Argonian. "Yes, I'm a werewolf. There are many details, but essentially there is a spirit in my blood. A beast. I can summon it to help me fight or hunt, but it's only under my control if I feed it regularly. It's a creature of instinct, like a wolf. That's... that's why I ate most of the rest of the ogre. I couldn't get at the wamasu because it was too tough, but that's your kill anyway."

Janius put a hand on Kaleeth's shoulder and looked at her directly. "I know it might seem powerful and wonderful at a glance, but its not like that. Not completely. I didn't want to let you know because... well, like I said, werewolves aren't trusted. If the word got out, then we might be driven away before Sabine could finish her ritual, and that's the entire point of us coming here. I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone else about me being a werewolf." His eyes glanced to the cave, then to Kaleeth again, "We can say that I drove the wamasu back with some fire magic some more before you got it, but not a word about a werewolf, okay?"

Once the point sunk in, Janius' expression became a bit more jovial. He slid his hand off Kaleeth's shoulder, held his arms beside himself and looked down at the spatters of blood on them. "Now then, I would hug you to congratulate you on becoming a hunter, but, as you can see, I don't exactly smell of roses." He laughed, and smiled at Kaleeth, "Well done."

---

Fendros rolled his shoulder and laughed. "I was wondering why I've been feeling sore," He remarked, before standing up from the log and removing his clothing. He was glad that the Argonian villagers didn't seem to have a problem with nudity. It made Fendros feel as if he didn't have to be disguised so much. "Well, you know Lorag. He's been trying to sculpt me so much that I'm surprised I haven't turned green and developed an underbite."

Once he placed all his clothes on the log behind him, he clasped his hands together and pulled an exaggerated pose that flexed his arms. "Like this?" He asked, wondering if it would actually be possible to sustain such a tensed pose for long enough. Deciding that perhaps his current pose would leave him with a pinched nerve, he instead assumed a pose that he had seen on a small statue once. He moved to pose as if he was in the middle of hurling an unseen javelin as far as he could, then looked to Ahnasha again, "...Or like this?"

Fendros smiled warmly at Ahnasha. He still enjoyed seeing her smile. "So, how have you been feeling with the day off travelling? You certainly looks like that sleep did you some good." Fendros said while trying to stay still.