Autharyx stands still for a while after Viltez has left the room. He still feels unsettled by how close he was to losing track of himself, but being back in the beastman's house is doing wonders for settling in. Everything smells like Viltez, or at least reminds him of Viltez. There's nothing like the clean crisp tang of ozon on the air, or the earthy scents of the woods. Those are familiar to his past life, whereas he never smelled anything like the inside of a house when he was still a dragon. It's not exactly that the scent of home is [i]better[/i] per se, but it is far enough removed from his previous life that Autharyx is able to relax a bit.

The hot water helps too, when he thinks to get in the tub. The heat sinks into his muscles, and it's only now they start to relax that he realises how tense he was before. The cuts and scrapes he got from trudging through the underbrush without regard have already healed, but it still feels good to wash away the last traces of blood and mud that had still been clinging to his skin. His hair is a bit more of a problem, but with a bit of patience and some soap he manages to untangle it before it gets a chance to become too unruly.

He's not sure how long he's spent in the bath, but by the time he clothes himself in the simple outfit Viltez left behind, it seems the food is already done. His hosts smiles at him as he enters the room, so he's pretty sure he's not delaying the dinner.

"The clothes are fine, I'm not 'putting up' with them," he says honestly. Sure, they seem to fit a little more snugly than his other set of clothes, but they are soft and comfortable and smell of Viltez- so now he kind of does too. It reminds Autharyx of lying in Viltez' bed, and those memories are hardly unpleasant. 

He knows where to find the plates and cutlery this time, and goes to set them out. A few days ago he would have probably seen work like this as beneath him, but now it just feels like he's contributing something to a shared meal.He takes care not to brush against the beastman more than can be explained by the cramped kitchen. Though it pains him to admit it even in the privacy of his own mind, he is aware that it's probably a bad idea to follow his own impulses when it comes to contact with Viltez. With so much unknown social rules, it seems best to follow the example of the one who actually lives amongst humans. 

"So, how has your day been? More fruitful than my own, I hope?" 

Self-deprecation does not come naturally to him, but it is still preferable to any amount of pity from the other man.