[Unfortunately, neither of them has ever been much good at 'subtle.' So Reynir had made it too obvious that something was going on in his mass of out-of-control hair, and Onni hadn't bothered to approach it in any kind of sensitive way when he wanted to know. The moment he yanks the hat off and Reynir yelps his name out like that, reproachfully, he almost immediately drops it and takes a step back, raising his hands. He doesn't feel threatened by Reynir, but he's experiencing a sort of mixed emotion, equal parts guilt and satisfaction at finally getting this out in the open. It seems strange that Reynir would have been hiding it from him, after all, they'd already talked about this, about bonding so they would avoid Reynir going feral or Onni's magic causing problems. They'd talked about it so candidly that this whole thing is a little surprising to Onni.
But Reynir doesn't continue on into some kind of tirade, he just shoves his hands in his pockets and goes bright red, won't make eye contact. With the hat off, the thing he was trying to hide is obvious - little horns, dark brown in colour and slightly curled, that are just long enough to poke out from his halo of red hair. For a moment, Onni looks at him while he stutters out a comment about them and how obvious they are.]
Why are you trying to hide them?
[His voice is a little softer than it usually is. As demanding as the question is, there's an obvious hint of gentleness to it.]
We've already talked about this happening. I won't let you go feral.
[ Reynir's eyes drop, but he can feel Onni's gaze on him still. He has experienced this before, from Onni - that concern, all stubborn and quiet and caring. He thinks that, even if the potential for this was always in Onni, it is a tone he had mastered raising Lalli and Tuuri. It's... nice. Different than the ways he's used to being cared about, either by his family or his friends back home. His usual little defenses all leave him.
He reaches up, fingers almost brushing those horns before his hand stops in midair and he curls his fingers into his palm, dropping his arm. ]
...I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a part of it, but mostly-
[ He exhales, makes himself look up. I won't let you go feral. He knows it's only logical that Onni would help him like this and look out for him. It's pragmatic. But at the same time, it's reassuring, to hear that, from Onni. Onni, who has surpassed such odds to help save Reynir before. ]
I know we talked about it and you're getting used to seeing Monsters here, but at the same time. Knowing it's gonna happen and seeing me like this aren't the same. I didn't-
[ The truth, the kernel of it that had been buried deep, enough that Reynir himself hadn't fully acknowledged it, spills out: ]
I didn't want the reality of it to gross you out or make you... scared of me, or whatever.
[Onni can't miss the way Reynir goes to touch the horns and then can't follow through with it, like he's afraid of them. Once he drops his hands, Onni sighs and simply waits. Reynir is the type of person who likes to talk, in Onni's experience, so he expects that if he just gives it a few moments, Reynir will eventually come out with it.
And he does. He explains that not liking how it looks is part of it, but mostly that he's worried that knowing Reynir's change was coming and actually seeing it are two different things. That he's worried that Onni will be grossed out or scared of him when it actually becomes reality. For a few moments after Reynir finishes, Onni is quiet, just thinking about it, pale eyes studying Reynir, moving up and down the length of him and then settling on the horns just starting to sprout up out of his hair. He makes a soft 'hm' in his throat, and then shakes his head.]
I don't feel any differently now than I did before. It isn't gross or frightening.
[There's a short pause while he works out how to word what's going on in his mind - that he's seen and experienced things that are so much worse that some horns in Reynir's hair barely register. Eventually, he comes to the conclusion that there isn't really any softer way to say it and still be honest.]
Don't forget, I've seen and heard spirits my whole life. A lot of them are good and natural and calming. But there are even more that are corrupted by the Rash. They're twisted and grotesque and they say terrible things. This... [He gestures vaguely toward the horns in Reynir's hair.] ...this is nothing.
[Another pause, while he considers things.]
It's easy to tell when those spirits are corrupted and twisted by what they've experienced, and when they are what they're meant to be, even when I don't know what they are. You're you, still.
[ There is a tight feeling in Reynir's chest that twists tighter and tighter as Onni speaks. He knows what awful things Onni has seen all his life - that is exactly why he had not wanted to remind him of anything like that. But there's denying that, in a selfish way, it's a relief to hear it from Onni, who has never been one to lie or soften the truth, that he doesn't think Reynir is twisted or grotesque.
Sighing, Reynir hangs his head. He's still him. ]
If I'm ever not...
[ He doesn't finish that sentence, trailing off instead. Reynir doesn't quite know yet how to ask for Onni to intervene, if this change to being a Monster ever robs him of his self, his humanity. Or for that matter if he is ever taken by the Cwyld. But they can have that conversation later... when Reynir knows exactly what he wants to ask for.
For now, however, he tries to just accept that this is happening. Onni knows and he's seen it and it's really, truly happening. ]
Turns out I'm a faun, I guess. That's the - the name for it.
[ And finally he does bring a hand up to brush against those small horns, running across them as he adds: ]
They feel just like sheep's horns. Like the kind of sheep we raised.
[ He gives a little snort at that, shaking his head. ]
[Reynir's misery and discomfort is so easy to read on him, and Onni wonders, not for the first time, how the Icelander can live while being so open and obvious about all the things that bother him. He's so transparent it's annoying sometimes, leaves Onni feeling a little edgy. But besides a slight shift from foot to foot that belies his restless energy, he keeps his face straight. Considering how obvious Reynir's discomfort is, he probably doesn't need to be chastised for it right now. Besides, this place is as safe as anywhere. They're in the city, protected, and only Onni is here to see him.
What's more concerning is when Reynir can't finish his sentence, asking Onni for something, if he's ever not himself. Onni suspects what Reynir might ask him, and part of him is glad that it was let unfinished because he isn't sure how he would answer.]
Like I said, I won't let you go feral. We already planned for that.
[It's quiet, but decisive, his voice stable and even. And he leaves it at that, while Reynir considers and lifts his hand to brush at the horns, telling Onni he's a faun and that the horns feel like the horns of his sheep back in Iceland. Faun. Onni marks the name in his mind, so he can learn more about it, about what effect that being this type of monster could have on Reynir's personality, on his being.
The snort and the sarcastic comment have Onni raising a brow, though.]
What's wrong with a sheep? You seemed to like them. Besides, at least it's something familiar. You know their temperament and habits and instinct and all that, right?
[ Reynir feels some reassurance, when Onni reminds him of his promise not to let him go feral. For a moment he opens his mouth, about to ask if they should make more concrete plans to bond. It's an assumed thing now, between them. But Onni has made no practical steps towards it, and the few times Reynir has tried to bring it up, Onni was always busy and distracted and waved it off. Reynir knows it was just contextual, but all the same, it's left him hesitant to really make plans.
And that hesitancy wins. They still have time. Plenty of time. The horns appearing may be a wakeup call, but matters are not anywhere near urgent, yet. He should let Onni enjoy his freedom while he can. ]
I do like them! But that doesn't mean I want to be one!
[ There's a note of petulance in Reynir's voice that even he can hear, and he sighs, shoulders slumping. He twists his braid between his hands, an unconscious nervous gesture. ]
I just said it figures because... I guess it's like even here, so far away in such a strange place, I'm still... tied to this life everybody assumed I was supposed to have. Staying on the farm, looking after the flock, never thinking about the outside world, never... really helping anybody or learning anything.
[ The ache in his chest talking about it is a familiar one, but eased by the knowledge that he wasn't letting all that hold him back, in their world. He was going to live the life he wanted, even if nobody thought he should or that he was capable of it.
Reynir pads over to the couch, sinking down and looking up at Onni. ]
I suppose it could be worse. I'm not going to get tentacles or - fangs or claws or anything. Just a lot of hair and like, hooves. Though according to this person I talked to, I'm gonna start being freaked out by fire, so that's... something we might need to deal with.
[The truth is, part of Onni is very anxious about the prospect of bonding - as much as he's aware it's a necessity, something that will need to be done, something unavoidable, and as much as he's aware that he absolutely would prefer to do it with Reynir than anyone else in this place, it isn't really something he looks forward to. So maybe some of that lack of having time to talk about it has been, at least subconsciously, on purpose.
After all, just like Reynir is thinking, they're not anywhere near the time where it will be really imperative. There's no danger yet. But still, Reynir looks anxious, twisting his braid in his hands while he talks about the reasons he doesn't want to be a sheep-related faun. That he's tied to this life that people assumed he wanted, in safety, tucked away on a farm in Iceland. For a moment, Onni feels a little prickle of irritation at that. If his family had lived safely on a farm in Iceland, he never would have wanted to leave, and maybe Tuuri would have had enough to do, going to the city and able to freely explore all the safe, uninfected surroundings, that she wouldn't have wanted to go out into the Silent World.
But he hadn't had that life. Reynir had. And being irritated about it won't change anything. Won't change the fact that Tuuri is gone, and his parents are gone. So he's quiet for a moment, just releasing that irritation, and then he exhales slowly.]
It's true, that horns and ears and hooves are better than tentacles or whatever. Besides, at least with the sheep you know their temperament, their likes and dislikes and all that. You understand them. I wouldn't know what to do with a sheep.
[A shrug, and he frowns a little, looking away.]
Fire? I'm sure we can figure something out. Maybe we should both do some research on fauns to see what they're like?
[The prickle is still there, under his skin, but after a moment, he looks back up at Reynir.]
Don't think of it as a life you don't want that you're tied to. Think of it as your one connection to home. Even you don't want to lose track of everything from home, right?
[ Now that the hat is off, and the two of them are talking, and Onni is chipping away at Reynir's worries and reservations, he begins to relax, little bit little. He reaches up and without quite realizes it starts to scratch his scalp around the base of those horns. They do itch rather a lot, where they are emerging.
And Reynir can't help a little huff of a laugh when Onni says he wouldn't know what to do with a sheep. ]
You would figure it out really fast. Sheep are easy to work with.
[ More than anything else, what Reynir appreciates is the way Onni talks about it as a problem they will be working together to solve; no hesitation, no telling Reynir it's his business and he should deal with it himself. Onni is sure that, together, they can work something out. So maybe... they can. ]
Research is a good idea. I'm sure they've got books on them... uh, on us, I guess... at the Coven. I sort of know someone who is a faun and I talked to them for a little while about it, so I'm aware of a few things at least. Like about the fire and I guess I'm going to be really hyper around the full moon. Not because of going feral or anything, just - wired and chatty and obnoxious.
[ He pauses then for a little smile; he's sure if he were with his fellow explorers one of them would have already jumped in and made a joke about it just being business as usual, then. He misses them. ]
I don't want to lose track of any of it.
[ Reynir rubs at the back of his neck, wondering if he should try to explain further. But... no. He thinks maybe this just might be one of those things that Onni can't understand, because of who he is and the life he's lived. There are plenty of things Reynir can't understand about Onni, for the same reasons. ]
I kind of wish I was at least getting some cool powers. Fauns aren't super strong or super fast or anything like that. I guess most of what I've heard is they like drinking and gardening. So I've already been changing and I hadn't even realized it.
[ He nods towards the window, to the garden he had been beginning to plant. ]
[At the insistence that he would figure it out fast because sheep are easy to work with, Onni shrugs. He'd seen them before, on the farming island when he'd gone to help out with the harvest, and while they'd always seemed calm and even-tempered, he'd never really known what to do with them, where to even start with tending to their needs or anything like that. And they were big, big enough to do him harm with their horns if they'd wanted to, at least when he was 13. He hadn't wanted to get close. He suspects that Reynir probably thought they were easy to work with mostly because he grew up with them. It doesn't seem so simple to Onni. But he doesn't comment, because there's no use arguing with Reynir, in his experience, and there's no use wasting his energy arguing about something so pointless when they have bigger things to worry about.
Listening quietly while Reynir explains that they've probably got books on fauns at the Coven (he makes a mental note to check for himself) and that he knows a faun and has asked questions. That he'll be afraid of fire and hyperactive and chatty around the full moon, hyperactive and chatty and obnoxious. Onni huffs out a breath, his mouth lifting just slightly at one corner.]
So nothing will change at the full moon, then.
[He says it with a completely straight face, but there's a hint of teasing to it. The rest of it, he's not sure what to do with. Reynir says he doesn't want to lose track of anything from home, but Onni can't wrap his head around Reynir being disappointed by having that connection still if that's true. Maybe it's just because Onni has missed his home for so long, maybe it's because he's here and everything feels wrong and he can't feel his gods, can't retreat to the dark, comforting solitude of the forest. It isn't the same here.]
Mm. Well, if I can manage to get the hang of the stupid magic system here, then I can hopefully be powerful enough to look out for both of us.
[ Reynir rolls his eyes when Onni says he'll just be the same at the full moon, but there's no mistaking the tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He's a little worried it genuinely will be a problem - just how manic is he going to get - but that all feels a little less intimidating when Onni is joking about him being an annoyance all the time, exactly the way he'd thought that Emil or Sigrun might joke.
As for Onni saying he'll protect them both once he wraps his mind around this place's magic: ]
Well, I can help look out for us, too. Faun powers or no faun powers. There's more than one way to paint a rune. Metaphorically, I mean.
[ He thinks about mentioning the conversation he'd had with a guy who offered to teach him swordfighting, but he decides against it at the last moment. He doesn't want Onni saying something about it not being necessary or that it is too dangerous or who knows what. He'll know when he needs to... ]
Oh, um.
[ Reynir rubs the back of his neck, considering. Most of the changes he's going to have to make will be just in tending to his own body - thinking about what he eats, dealing with different needs for grooming, etc. But he doesn't want to just leap to telling Onni he can't help. Especially when he's been sort of avoiding dealing with all this so far. ]
Just... knowing you're gonna keep me from going feral is helping a lot. And - everyone I've talked to has said the whole transition is easier if you're not fighting against it or... denying it, so. You're already helping, right now. With this.
[Onni doesn't miss the way Reynir smiles slightly, the corner of his mouth rising a little, when he makes that comment about him being the same as always. Well, it's good to see that his sense of humour is intact. Onni had only half meant it, really, but his own sense of humour has always been dry and had a touch of truth to it.
Reynir's protest that he can help look out for them too, with or without special powers, is more predictable than his response to the first comment. Onni nods, once, and makes a noise of assent in his throat.]
I know you will. Doesn't it make you bigger, at least? Stronger maybe, at least a little? Either way, those horns will be dangerous weapons once they're grown out. The sheep on the farming island always made me think twice about messing with them, when I saw those horns.
[He seems to have no shame about admitting he'd been afraid of sheep of all things, but he's never had much shame. Not about that kind of thing.
What he hadn't expected was for Reynir to suggest any way for him to help. It had been right to offer, but Reynir seems to be stubbornly independent, refusing to do what people want him to do and instead just going about and doing as he pleases with no real thought to danger or anything else. But Reynir says that he's helping already, by promising to keep him from going feral. And he mentions that the transition is apparently easier if one doesn't fight against it. Nodding thoughtfully, Onni lifts a hand and presses his fingertip against his mouth for a moment, thinking.]
That makes sense, I suppose. If you're not repressing it, then it won't get out of control. That kind of thing?
[A pause, and his pale eyes lock on Reynir's face for a moment, trying to read him.]
With this? You mean...not being weird about it? There's no reason to be weird about it. It is what it is.
[ Reynir, who has a healthy respect for the potential harm that just about any farm animal can do if it sets its mind to it, merely nods when Onni mentions being properly intimidated by sheep when he was younger. Of course, the thought of using his own horns in a similar fashion... his mind shies away from it. It would have to be an awful struggle, and he's seen the kind of damage that a horn can do. He doesn't want to have to do that.
But it's all just hypothetical, just talk. It could be worse, and he repeats that to himself in his mind. ]
I don't know about bigger, or stronger. I might get a little taller, because of the legs, and hooves.
[ As if he weren't tall enough already. If that really does come to pass, doorframes are going to really start being an issue. That's not even mentioning what he'll do about clothes, and boots...
He halts his thoughts, before they spiral off any further into panic and dread. One thing at a time. ]
Yeah. That kind of thing.
[ Reynir looks at Onni, as he says, with that characteristic blunt kindness of his, that it simply is what it is. Onni really can't see anything special about his attitude, about the way he approaches these things. And Reynir doesn't know any way to make him see how unique it makes him. So instead, he just lets himself smile. It crinkles up the corners of his eyes, a flash of pure fond warmth. ]
[Onni blinks, tilting his head, trying to imagine it.]
You can get taller?
[Honestly, besides that fat Dane, Reynir is the tallest person Onni has ever met, and his long braid and how lanky he is only make him look even more tall. And long. Like a few tree branches in a sweater, but more...not graceful, but fluid. Like some very young long-legged deer, perhaps. The comparison is just going to be more intense once he starts getting those legs and hooves and all, Onni imagines.
It's a little difficult to imagine.]
Well. We'll figure that out when it happens, too.
[Then Reynir is looking at him with that strange expression, smiling, with warm eyes. Onni can't remember the last time someone looked at him like that...the memories of when Tuuri had are fading too quickly, and for just a moment he feels a little spike of panic, like he's going to forget her face or her smile or the easy way she said she loved him. For a second, the fear shows in his eyes, and he glances away from Reynir to try to hide it, as pointless as that probably is.
Taking a deep breath to ease the tension of what he's feeling, he calms himself and puts on a serious expression again before looking back at Reynir.]
Yes. Well, then, I won't start being weird about it, if you'll try not to act like you need to hide this kind of thing from me. You don't have to, because it doesn't bother me. Understand?
[ And, as if making a point of it, Reynir lifts up those long legs of his, propping his feet on the edge of the coffee table. But it's good, to joke like this. To take something that had been so frighening to him - the joints in his legs going the opposite way, and hooves, and all of it - and making it into something else. Just another of many jokes about the fact that he's so tall. Like it's all just a part of his life. Like he's the same person still that he had been when he and Onni first met. ]
You'll be glad about it when I can reach anything from any shelf, and all you have to do is ask me nicely.
[ They both know that the 'nicely' bit isn't necessary and he would do it anyway, but there's a fond, flirty joking tone to his voice as he makes that standing offer to Onni.
He sees Onni look away from him, have a moment of... some kind of confused emotion. But then Onni is telling him that none of this bothers him. And from someone else, Reynir would think that the simplest solution was the correct one - that Onni is uncomfortable about him and just lying about it. But Lalli had been clear about it: Onni doesn't lie, apart from that once. And that once had been... extreme circumstances.
So it's something else, bothering Onni. Something he hasn't felt comfortable mentioning, yet. But Reynir has learned from experience that the best way isn't to just ask directly. He'll have to coax Onni into discussing his feelings, from an oblique angle.
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no subject
But Reynir doesn't continue on into some kind of tirade, he just shoves his hands in his pockets and goes bright red, won't make eye contact. With the hat off, the thing he was trying to hide is obvious - little horns, dark brown in colour and slightly curled, that are just long enough to poke out from his halo of red hair. For a moment, Onni looks at him while he stutters out a comment about them and how obvious they are.]
Why are you trying to hide them?
[His voice is a little softer than it usually is. As demanding as the question is, there's an obvious hint of gentleness to it.]
We've already talked about this happening. I won't let you go feral.
[A pause, and then, equally carefully.]
Is it because you don't like how they look?
no subject
He reaches up, fingers almost brushing those horns before his hand stops in midair and he curls his fingers into his palm, dropping his arm. ]
...I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a part of it, but mostly-
[ He exhales, makes himself look up. I won't let you go feral. He knows it's only logical that Onni would help him like this and look out for him. It's pragmatic. But at the same time, it's reassuring, to hear that, from Onni. Onni, who has surpassed such odds to help save Reynir before. ]
I know we talked about it and you're getting used to seeing Monsters here, but at the same time. Knowing it's gonna happen and seeing me like this aren't the same. I didn't-
[ The truth, the kernel of it that had been buried deep, enough that Reynir himself hadn't fully acknowledged it, spills out: ]
I didn't want the reality of it to gross you out or make you... scared of me, or whatever.
no subject
And he does. He explains that not liking how it looks is part of it, but mostly that he's worried that knowing Reynir's change was coming and actually seeing it are two different things. That he's worried that Onni will be grossed out or scared of him when it actually becomes reality. For a few moments after Reynir finishes, Onni is quiet, just thinking about it, pale eyes studying Reynir, moving up and down the length of him and then settling on the horns just starting to sprout up out of his hair. He makes a soft 'hm' in his throat, and then shakes his head.]
I don't feel any differently now than I did before. It isn't gross or frightening.
[There's a short pause while he works out how to word what's going on in his mind - that he's seen and experienced things that are so much worse that some horns in Reynir's hair barely register. Eventually, he comes to the conclusion that there isn't really any softer way to say it and still be honest.]
Don't forget, I've seen and heard spirits my whole life. A lot of them are good and natural and calming. But there are even more that are corrupted by the Rash. They're twisted and grotesque and they say terrible things. This... [He gestures vaguely toward the horns in Reynir's hair.] ...this is nothing.
[Another pause, while he considers things.]
It's easy to tell when those spirits are corrupted and twisted by what they've experienced, and when they are what they're meant to be, even when I don't know what they are. You're you, still.
no subject
Sighing, Reynir hangs his head. He's still him. ]
If I'm ever not...
[ He doesn't finish that sentence, trailing off instead. Reynir doesn't quite know yet how to ask for Onni to intervene, if this change to being a Monster ever robs him of his self, his humanity. Or for that matter if he is ever taken by the Cwyld. But they can have that conversation later... when Reynir knows exactly what he wants to ask for.
For now, however, he tries to just accept that this is happening. Onni knows and he's seen it and it's really, truly happening. ]
Turns out I'm a faun, I guess. That's the - the name for it.
[ And finally he does bring a hand up to brush against those small horns, running across them as he adds: ]
They feel just like sheep's horns. Like the kind of sheep we raised.
[ He gives a little snort at that, shaking his head. ]
Figures.
no subject
What's more concerning is when Reynir can't finish his sentence, asking Onni for something, if he's ever not himself. Onni suspects what Reynir might ask him, and part of him is glad that it was let unfinished because he isn't sure how he would answer.]
Like I said, I won't let you go feral. We already planned for that.
[It's quiet, but decisive, his voice stable and even. And he leaves it at that, while Reynir considers and lifts his hand to brush at the horns, telling Onni he's a faun and that the horns feel like the horns of his sheep back in Iceland. Faun. Onni marks the name in his mind, so he can learn more about it, about what effect that being this type of monster could have on Reynir's personality, on his being.
The snort and the sarcastic comment have Onni raising a brow, though.]
What's wrong with a sheep? You seemed to like them. Besides, at least it's something familiar. You know their temperament and habits and instinct and all that, right?
no subject
And that hesitancy wins. They still have time. Plenty of time. The horns appearing may be a wakeup call, but matters are not anywhere near urgent, yet. He should let Onni enjoy his freedom while he can. ]
I do like them! But that doesn't mean I want to be one!
[ There's a note of petulance in Reynir's voice that even he can hear, and he sighs, shoulders slumping. He twists his braid between his hands, an unconscious nervous gesture. ]
I just said it figures because... I guess it's like even here, so far away in such a strange place, I'm still... tied to this life everybody assumed I was supposed to have. Staying on the farm, looking after the flock, never thinking about the outside world, never... really helping anybody or learning anything.
[ The ache in his chest talking about it is a familiar one, but eased by the knowledge that he wasn't letting all that hold him back, in their world. He was going to live the life he wanted, even if nobody thought he should or that he was capable of it.
Reynir pads over to the couch, sinking down and looking up at Onni. ]
I suppose it could be worse. I'm not going to get tentacles or - fangs or claws or anything. Just a lot of hair and like, hooves. Though according to this person I talked to, I'm gonna start being freaked out by fire, so that's... something we might need to deal with.
no subject
After all, just like Reynir is thinking, they're not anywhere near the time where it will be really imperative. There's no danger yet. But still, Reynir looks anxious, twisting his braid in his hands while he talks about the reasons he doesn't want to be a sheep-related faun. That he's tied to this life that people assumed he wanted, in safety, tucked away on a farm in Iceland. For a moment, Onni feels a little prickle of irritation at that. If his family had lived safely on a farm in Iceland, he never would have wanted to leave, and maybe Tuuri would have had enough to do, going to the city and able to freely explore all the safe, uninfected surroundings, that she wouldn't have wanted to go out into the Silent World.
But he hadn't had that life. Reynir had. And being irritated about it won't change anything. Won't change the fact that Tuuri is gone, and his parents are gone. So he's quiet for a moment, just releasing that irritation, and then he exhales slowly.]
It's true, that horns and ears and hooves are better than tentacles or whatever. Besides, at least with the sheep you know their temperament, their likes and dislikes and all that. You understand them. I wouldn't know what to do with a sheep.
[A shrug, and he frowns a little, looking away.]
Fire? I'm sure we can figure something out. Maybe we should both do some research on fauns to see what they're like?
[The prickle is still there, under his skin, but after a moment, he looks back up at Reynir.]
Don't think of it as a life you don't want that you're tied to. Think of it as your one connection to home. Even you don't want to lose track of everything from home, right?
no subject
And Reynir can't help a little huff of a laugh when Onni says he wouldn't know what to do with a sheep. ]
You would figure it out really fast. Sheep are easy to work with.
[ More than anything else, what Reynir appreciates is the way Onni talks about it as a problem they will be working together to solve; no hesitation, no telling Reynir it's his business and he should deal with it himself. Onni is sure that, together, they can work something out. So maybe... they can. ]
Research is a good idea. I'm sure they've got books on them... uh, on us, I guess... at the Coven. I sort of know someone who is a faun and I talked to them for a little while about it, so I'm aware of a few things at least. Like about the fire and I guess I'm going to be really hyper around the full moon. Not because of going feral or anything, just - wired and chatty and obnoxious.
[ He pauses then for a little smile; he's sure if he were with his fellow explorers one of them would have already jumped in and made a joke about it just being business as usual, then. He misses them. ]
I don't want to lose track of any of it.
[ Reynir rubs at the back of his neck, wondering if he should try to explain further. But... no. He thinks maybe this just might be one of those things that Onni can't understand, because of who he is and the life he's lived. There are plenty of things Reynir can't understand about Onni, for the same reasons. ]
I kind of wish I was at least getting some cool powers. Fauns aren't super strong or super fast or anything like that. I guess most of what I've heard is they like drinking and gardening. So I've already been changing and I hadn't even realized it.
[ He nods towards the window, to the garden he had been beginning to plant. ]
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Listening quietly while Reynir explains that they've probably got books on fauns at the Coven (he makes a mental note to check for himself) and that he knows a faun and has asked questions. That he'll be afraid of fire and hyperactive and chatty around the full moon, hyperactive and chatty and obnoxious. Onni huffs out a breath, his mouth lifting just slightly at one corner.]
So nothing will change at the full moon, then.
[He says it with a completely straight face, but there's a hint of teasing to it. The rest of it, he's not sure what to do with. Reynir says he doesn't want to lose track of anything from home, but Onni can't wrap his head around Reynir being disappointed by having that connection still if that's true. Maybe it's just because Onni has missed his home for so long, maybe it's because he's here and everything feels wrong and he can't feel his gods, can't retreat to the dark, comforting solitude of the forest. It isn't the same here.]
Mm. Well, if I can manage to get the hang of the stupid magic system here, then I can hopefully be powerful enough to look out for both of us.
[Well, he completely misunderstood why Reynir wanted cool powers. Oh well.]
Anyway, there could be worse interests than drinking and gardening. I don't mind drinking, and the garden is useful. You're pretty good at it, too.
[After a moment, he glances up, his eyes flicking to search Reynir's face.]
Is there something I should do to help you? Not with the garden, but with... [He gestures vaguely toward Reynir's head, the horns.] ...this?
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As for Onni saying he'll protect them both once he wraps his mind around this place's magic: ]
Well, I can help look out for us, too. Faun powers or no faun powers. There's more than one way to paint a rune. Metaphorically, I mean.
[ He thinks about mentioning the conversation he'd had with a guy who offered to teach him swordfighting, but he decides against it at the last moment. He doesn't want Onni saying something about it not being necessary or that it is too dangerous or who knows what. He'll know when he needs to... ]
Oh, um.
[ Reynir rubs the back of his neck, considering. Most of the changes he's going to have to make will be just in tending to his own body - thinking about what he eats, dealing with different needs for grooming, etc. But he doesn't want to just leap to telling Onni he can't help. Especially when he's been sort of avoiding dealing with all this so far. ]
Just... knowing you're gonna keep me from going feral is helping a lot. And - everyone I've talked to has said the whole transition is easier if you're not fighting against it or... denying it, so. You're already helping, right now. With this.
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Reynir's protest that he can help look out for them too, with or without special powers, is more predictable than his response to the first comment. Onni nods, once, and makes a noise of assent in his throat.]
I know you will. Doesn't it make you bigger, at least? Stronger maybe, at least a little? Either way, those horns will be dangerous weapons once they're grown out. The sheep on the farming island always made me think twice about messing with them, when I saw those horns.
[He seems to have no shame about admitting he'd been afraid of sheep of all things, but he's never had much shame. Not about that kind of thing.
What he hadn't expected was for Reynir to suggest any way for him to help. It had been right to offer, but Reynir seems to be stubbornly independent, refusing to do what people want him to do and instead just going about and doing as he pleases with no real thought to danger or anything else. But Reynir says that he's helping already, by promising to keep him from going feral. And he mentions that the transition is apparently easier if one doesn't fight against it. Nodding thoughtfully, Onni lifts a hand and presses his fingertip against his mouth for a moment, thinking.]
That makes sense, I suppose. If you're not repressing it, then it won't get out of control. That kind of thing?
[A pause, and his pale eyes lock on Reynir's face for a moment, trying to read him.]
With this? You mean...not being weird about it? There's no reason to be weird about it. It is what it is.
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But it's all just hypothetical, just talk. It could be worse, and he repeats that to himself in his mind. ]
I don't know about bigger, or stronger. I might get a little taller, because of the legs, and hooves.
[ As if he weren't tall enough already. If that really does come to pass, doorframes are going to really start being an issue. That's not even mentioning what he'll do about clothes, and boots...
He halts his thoughts, before they spiral off any further into panic and dread. One thing at a time. ]
Yeah. That kind of thing.
[ Reynir looks at Onni, as he says, with that characteristic blunt kindness of his, that it simply is what it is. Onni really can't see anything special about his attitude, about the way he approaches these things. And Reynir doesn't know any way to make him see how unique it makes him. So instead, he just lets himself smile. It crinkles up the corners of his eyes, a flash of pure fond warmth. ]
Yeah. It is what it is.
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[Onni blinks, tilting his head, trying to imagine it.]
You can get taller?
[Honestly, besides that fat Dane, Reynir is the tallest person Onni has ever met, and his long braid and how lanky he is only make him look even more tall. And long. Like a few tree branches in a sweater, but more...not graceful, but fluid. Like some very young long-legged deer, perhaps. The comparison is just going to be more intense once he starts getting those legs and hooves and all, Onni imagines.
It's a little difficult to imagine.]
Well. We'll figure that out when it happens, too.
[Then Reynir is looking at him with that strange expression, smiling, with warm eyes. Onni can't remember the last time someone looked at him like that...the memories of when Tuuri had are fading too quickly, and for just a moment he feels a little spike of panic, like he's going to forget her face or her smile or the easy way she said she loved him. For a second, the fear shows in his eyes, and he glances away from Reynir to try to hide it, as pointless as that probably is.
Taking a deep breath to ease the tension of what he's feeling, he calms himself and puts on a serious expression again before looking back at Reynir.]
Yes. Well, then, I won't start being weird about it, if you'll try not to act like you need to hide this kind of thing from me. You don't have to, because it doesn't bother me. Understand?
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[ And, as if making a point of it, Reynir lifts up those long legs of his, propping his feet on the edge of the coffee table. But it's good, to joke like this. To take something that had been so frighening to him - the joints in his legs going the opposite way, and hooves, and all of it - and making it into something else. Just another of many jokes about the fact that he's so tall. Like it's all just a part of his life. Like he's the same person still that he had been when he and Onni first met. ]
You'll be glad about it when I can reach anything from any shelf, and all you have to do is ask me nicely.
[ They both know that the 'nicely' bit isn't necessary and he would do it anyway, but there's a fond,
flirtyjoking tone to his voice as he makes that standing offer to Onni.He sees Onni look away from him, have a moment of... some kind of confused emotion. But then Onni is telling him that none of this bothers him. And from someone else, Reynir would think that the simplest solution was the correct one - that Onni is uncomfortable about him and just lying about it. But Lalli had been clear about it: Onni doesn't lie, apart from that once. And that once had been... extreme circumstances.
So it's something else, bothering Onni. Something he hasn't felt comfortable mentioning, yet. But Reynir has learned from experience that the best way isn't to just ask directly. He'll have to coax Onni into discussing his feelings, from an oblique angle.
And that requires time. ]
Okay. I'll try.