A gentleman, truly, born and bred, how lucky she is. Saxsice is mostly pleased she doesn't have to sit bare-assed on the stage anymore. Splinters and all. But she nods emphatically. "Back in the cult we would gather naked and howl at the moon every fortnight."

She lets that hang for a moment, then: "Nah, I'm shittin' you, we never did that. But you definitely believed we did." Shifting to get comfortable, she raises and lowers her shoulders. "It gets easier with practice -- the whole bein' totally alone. You either get to love yourself or totally hate yourself, but either way you're stuck with yourself."

Saxsice nods seriously, scrunching up her nose. "I might like the whole wolfy thing better if it was an allegory. Y'know, like I was doin' somethin'...cosmically significant?" She shrugs, lifting her hand and waving around her Scrywatch -- bright yellow, like a streetlight -- in demonstration. "But that's what we're supposed to be doin' here, right? Findin' our place in the universe? Multiverse? Whatever."