When George had arrived on the island, one of his first thoughts had been about his transformations and how he was going to deal with them. Back home, he'd been able to contain it. Even for the few months that he hadn't been able to use the isolation room, at least there'd been some semblance of control. Some assurances that he wouldn't come across
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Then again, looking at him, maybe that's not weird at all.
"Funny," I grunt, giving him a dubious look. "Usually this situation is the other way around."
A healing factor is great and all, but the fact is it doesn't fix my clothes.
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"Sorry?" George asked, more a question than an apology.
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"You trying to commune with the wild or something?"
I was going to ask if he'd just arrived, but he's got a backpack with him. It doesn't add up.
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"But...I think I've been stood up, so I was just leaving."
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Heather Hudson is not a bashful woman by any means, and a naked man is nothing she hasn't seen before -- though, admittedly, she's curious as to why he's out there all on his own. For a moment she waits, half-expecting some other naked soul to emerge from the shadows, but her patience goes unrewarded. Unfazed, a laugh escapes her, and she manages a small wave.
"Everything alright, there, handsome?"
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"...hi." He said, looking a bit like a deer caught in headlights, "I was just-- I was doing calisthenics."
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I stared.
I sighed. Last night had been a creepy bonfire, and now this?
I turned to Mrs. O'Leary. "We have _got_ to stop taking these night walks. They're just _too_ disturbing!"
Mrs. O'Leary, on her part, said "WOOF!"
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"Don't worry, I was just leaving," George said, "Well, actually, I was just getting dressed and then leaving."
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Mrs. O'Leary, for her part, objected to my use of the word 'dog' by growling low. The glowing coals of her eyes flashed.
"Quiet!" I muttered.
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Currently, he was debating between shouting at the boy to leave and standing there to finish the conversation.
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"Awesome how you're one with the nature and all that, dawg," he says, eyes fixated on a tree behind the guy. "But would you mind?" Walt asks, gesturing vaguely with his hand.
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"I was just--" George started, mind racing as he tried to come up with some sort of excuse that wasn't 'I was waiting to turn into a werewolf', "--I was just leaving, actually."
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Because really, if that was the case, Walt would've tried it.
He shakes his head lightly, adding, "You could just get dressed anyways, and meet up with that group of people that're trying to find a way to get off this island. Maybe they can help you!"
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"...I meant the jungle," He replied.
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She tried to hold in a smile.
"Goodness. That's..." Her gaze lowered. "Unexpected."
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"Um...hello," He said, at a complete loss, and quickly covered himself with his hands.
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Angua couldn't help it, her entire expression broke into a wide grin. She quickly turned, giving the poor man his privacy.
"Go ahead, then. You have a change of clothing?"
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He picked up his backpack and fished out his trousers, pulling them on at near lightning speed.
"I was-- I was just...I was waiting on someone?" He hadn't meant it to sound like a question, or so terribly unconvincing. But at least it sounded better than 'I thought I was going to transform into a giant wolf.'
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