[He's not entirely sure what he's expecting when that hand's going for his shoulder. He feels like a piece of shit, for sure. And he feared what would happen next. But even then, he can't exactly imagine Zack would just casually lean over and strike him. And even if he did? he'd probably deserve it. But it's not that. Instead, his shoulder's rattled around inside of its socket a little, and his gaze moves to the side. A long exhale shortly follows.

Relief.
...A lot of it, actually.

Part of him wants to ask what happened. He wants to ask why he didn't contact his parents in Gongaga. Hell... to him, the main question is how he survived Sephiroth, because that... is where he's having problems. But just the act of asking puts him ill at ease. So...
He doesn't. Not yet.

Besides that, Zack asked a question. That's far more important than looking what appears to be a walking, talking gift-horse in the mouth.]

Yeah. ...Not like the ones back home.

[That's a. point. His gaze moves back.]

A Turnskin. But I guess a more accurate way to put its a werewolf. You, uh, know what you are yet? If Aerith hasn't already, I can go through it with you. It's kind of important that you know.