She spends a while on the ground, panting but not otherwise moving, paying attention to her senses, smell and hearing most of all, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. She remembers... little. Very little. Even the fight that just happened, and the flight, and the tearing herself open to get rid of that, of that, of that thing, she doesn't remember. It's a blur. It's flashes of images and feelings but most of all of sounds and smells, sounds and smells, sounds and smells.

Her eyes now are—different. She can see a new colour, in the foliage, the leaves, and now that she pays attention it's more than one, it's so many new colours, so many of them everywhere, she can't, she doesn't have names for them but they are—but the shadows are so much darker. She can see less, she's having to hold herself still to not move her head from side to side in a panic, certain that some unseen enemy is about to flank her even though she is, still, lying on the ground. She'd usually have been able to see more, a lot more, and now she can't and it's stifling. But for a blessing, what she can see is—better? Sharper? No, not sharper. Deeper. Deeper, yes, that's a good description of it, she can see a lot deeper. It's vexing and confusing.

And she can't hear or smell anything. Anything. She has warring instincts, because if she can't see and can't hear and can't smell, then—but she shouldn't move. If she moves she's in danger. She's still healing, if nothing else, but if she moves then something might see her. She won't. She can't move. She has to wait.

She's terrified and so, so alone.

The place she picked for her convalescence was a good one, at least. Out of the way, defensible. There's a cliff behind her and ahead is a thicket of thorny bushes. Anything that could come for her would at least be a bit slowed down. ... The not-prey that hunted might have a better time than most. He had fire, too, along with his horrific not-claw. It could maybe burn a way through to her. But... that would be very noticeable. Even to her dulled senses.

Slowly, she does heal. It has none of the speed she's accustomed to, and even after it's knit itself back together, she feels weak from bloodloss and lingering exhaustion, but it closes. Her usual strength remains further away, however. She is still small and soft and weak. Deaf and nose-blind, in her little sanctum of at least temporary sanctuary.

What would she like to do?

She would like to...

...eat. She's hungry, the blood loss hit her hard and she's feeling weak. Except she's not sure that's not just this new form she's been cursed with, this, this—

...it's not new. Old. She's been like this before, she was like this when—when? She doesn't know. She sits up and looks down at her body. Her fur is gone and her claws are gone and her teats are a lot bigger and her ears are a lot smaller and her legs and feet are shaped differently and she's...

...human. That's the word for what she is. Human. Except she's not thinking in words, just concepts, and she has a concept, a memory, for what she is, now. Human.

And what was she before? Wolf?

Not quite.

But she needs to eat. Claws or no, teeth or no, even while small and fragile and weak. She needs to find food.

Food...

Well, it's not the delicious taste of prey-flesh, but... there are other creatures in these woods. Smaller ones, stupider ones, weaker ones. Deer, rabbits, various types of birds. Usually they wouldn't be particularly filling or worth the trouble, but in her current state trying a proper hunt might be a bad idea. And anyway, trying to hunt as a human would be a novel challenge.

Yeah, she thinks she's going to go do that. Tries to make sure the not-prey with the sharp cold things is not around—

Wait, she's going to bury the sharp things because she does not want to ever run even a slight chance of ever touching them again. 

That done, she tries to pay attention to her greatly diminished senses and, not sensing any danger, goes on the hunt. What teeny tiny tasteless game is she going to find, she wonders?

Hmmmm... rabbits, of course, but most of those are in their burrows. Squirrels, but those are up in their trees. That snuffling over there.... boar, perhaps? That might be too risky as she is now, but it's an option. And further out, in the other direction, there's the (faint, compared to what she's used to) scent of a deer on the wind. A safer option, but also more cautious and likely to run.

But if its scent is coming from upwind that means that she is downwind from it, and if she can be quiet enough (can she? this form is so, so clumsy) she may be able to not alert her prey to her presence.

She goes in that direction.

She does the best she can with what she has, but she's not what she was. She almost gets into a decent ambushing range, but then the wind changes and the deer makes a run for it.

She tries to growl in frustration and the pathetic sound that comes out of her throat almost makes her want to cry which is even more pathetic so she ignores it.

She's so slow. And it's not just the hunger it's this form it's these feet and these legs and these arms, her arms are so weak and wimpy and she actually cut her hand on something and it healed quickly but it still needed healing and and and—

Stop. Focus. It is what it is, feeling sorry for herself and whatever curse she's under that forced her (back?) into this body is not going to feed her.

The problem is that she's thinking too much. Thinking is... good, probably, in general, she guesses, but thinking has never fed her. What's fed her is hunting so she needs to hunt. Not think about hunting, not trying to hunt. Just hunt.

From the top: what is there to eat?

Rabbits, again. Squirrels, again, and other various assorted rodents. Sparrows and other types of birds. None of those would make much of a meal, but it'd be better than nothing. She could probably track down that boar she'd heard earlier, too, though it's out of range for now. There's a rustling in the underbrush that sounds like it could be some kind of badger. As for smells...

... well, there is a familiar and delicious scent of prey, on one of their trails of dirt, but if she couldn't catch a deer then she probably couldn't manage a proper hunt.

Nghhh it's so tempting—

...but tempting is what got her into this mess. If she's going to make use of any facts about her current dismal circumstances it's the ability to understand that she was wrong to think that she was the most powerful thing around and nothing could hurt her and so she should not do whatever she wants.

She will not hunt the delicious prey.

And she will not hunt the small game, either. Just like her delicious prey is too crafty for her at least in her current state, so is small game too quick for her. The snorting one (a boar?), then, or another deer if she can smell one.

And she is going to hunt properly. No thinking about it, no planning. She immerses herself in her senses and just moves.

It's easier this way, giving in to her instincts. Like this, she's stronger, and faster, too. Still not as strong as she should be, but it's an obvious improvement. Her weakened form does offer some benefits, as well. She's smaller, more able to slip through the underbrush without making too much noise. And, most interestingly, she can be underestimated. Ordinarily, a boar would flee at the first scent of her. While she's shaped like this... it thinks she's human. Thinks she's actually as weak as she looks. That it can charge, and she'll flee or get herself crushed or skewered.

The creature is mistaken. Her claws were blunted and weak, but if she gives in to the hunt, they can become sharp and strong again. She can leap out of the way of its charge and counterattack just so, and yes, maybe this is a decent hunt after all.

Her prize is a meal, if not a particularly appetizing one. Is she sure she doesn't want to go hunt something more appetizing instead? She's not quite up to full strength yet, but she's definitely closer, now. Maybe giving in a bit more would be enough to regain her fur and fangs, too...

No. It's tempting, but no. In this form the boar is more than enough, actually, even if it tastes even less appetising than it did before. She can fill her stomach with it, try not to dwell on the fact that her fangs and claws are gone again she was so happy when they were back—focus. She fills her stomach and then goes to find somewhere to hole up and sleep because she's suddenly feeling extremely tired.

Relieving herself in this form is just so much worse.

But once she's awake she does, actually, feel sufficiently recovered for a proper hunt.

What time even is it? Time is relevant for hunting.

It is late afternoon, by the light. Not a great hunting time in itself, that's usually the depths of night, when the prey are asleep and sight-blind. It gives her time to get set up and choose her hunting ground, if she'd like.

That is exactly what she is going to do. Her senses are duller but when she's closer enough to anywhere to be able to smell it she can recognise it, so she'll soon be able to reorient herself and then, after making sure she is far away from where the not-prey with the cold sharp not-claw bested her, she will find one of her familiar hunting grounds.

Of which she had many. She learned a long time ago that prey would avoid anywhere she spent too long at so she has a whole rotation of places she hunts around, plus she'd occasionally travel farther afield to scout new grounds. She can't travel very far or fast in this form though so familiar will have to do.

The best hunting grounds, in her very seasoned experience, are to the south. Northwards, the prey are more numerous, but also more organized. They make great hives of stone and wood, and they call to the rest of their pack for assistance if they can, and swarm accordingly. It can make for very fun hunting, especially if she makes, gathers, and leads a pack of her own, but it's a bit of a major endeavor. Her prey is clever, and over the years, some have figured out how to summon and throw fire along with their usual flying stingers. To the west the prey are even more entrenched, and the entrances of their great hives of stone are jealously guarded. It's possible to climb over their walls, of course, but it makes escape after a successful hunt tricky. East is the Great Cold, where lingering ancient magic and the biting chill scare off even the most desperate of prey. Not a very good hunting ground at all, that.

But... she was ambushed by the not-prey in the south. In familiar lands she'd only recently cycled back to hunting, she hadn't been particularly entrenched.

...the south is big, there's probably enough space for her to not run into the not-prey, she'd managed to avoid it this long. And if she smells it she can always—and this greatly injures her pride but better her pride than her—run away.

Hopefully it won't come to that.

Hopefully. But it's something to keep in mind for later, maybe.

For now... yes, this hunting ground will do for now. It takes a couple hours, until the sun has almost set and evening is beginning to set in, but she does find someplace that smells promising. The faint scent of prey that passes by this trail regularly, and to the north-east, sounds of trees being felled. Perfectly ordinary activities, for prey, in their attempt to build their hives bigger and stronger.

There is no sign or scent of the terrible not-prey.

Perfect, ambush time. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and starts to lose herself in the hunt again like she did yesterday—

And then she suddenly snaps back in excitement and she's nearly crying again because she could feel herself going deeper into her old self and maybe that means she's not stuck like this after all and she'll be able to be herself again and not be in this terrible horrible awful shape forever she's so happy—

Focus. Lose herself in her senses. Her claws grow again, her teeth get longer and sharper, her eyes grow farther apart, the soles of her hands and feet start growing pads, her heels start stretching away from the balls of her feet. Her shape still isn't right, but it's at least righter.

She's not consciously processing any of that, though, because the more she loses herself the more she loses herself and so now she is

smell

sound

sight

the tension of her muscles and the feel of the ground under her feet

the coiling anticipation in her gut as she lowers herself closer to the earth and hides herself in the darkness

she waits

In the last light of evening before true darkness sets in, two prey head back to their nest, their clumsy feet crunching loudly in the brush. The steps are heavier than usual, like they're each carrying something. This will make it very hard for them to run.

"Don't know why you insist on staying out this late to chop down just one more tree," sighs one, to the other. "You know the foreman's still going to be on our ass about 'quotas' no matter what we do."

...the noises the prey make bring her halfway back into humanity because what. What. What sorcery was that??? They made noises that... made things appear in her head??????? They made noises that caused thoughts in her, specific thoughts not just vague thoughts like "those are prey noises".

That is freaky. And what's freakier is that she's pretty sure prey has always made those noises? Is this her new form, is it some form of, does it have some weakness to prey sounds that make her confused, or did her prey discover some new trick of some kind? The boar didn't cause her to have new thoughts. This is extremely suspicious and she is curious but most of all she wants to eat them so they'll stop making noises appear in her head.

All of that is, of course, more wordless anger and confusion than a full fleshed-out thought, and it takes her less than a second to start to return to her more comfortable shape (even if she can't go all the way yet).

  "I don't give a damn about quotas, Malcolm. We need those walls up yesterday, and the only way that'll happen is if we all do our part."

"Sure, but... c'mon, this ain't safe. You never know what kindsa things are waiting in the dark. 'Specially in these woods. The sun's our best damn friend and you know it."

  "... I didn't mean for it to go this long, sorry," sighs the second prey, as he and his fellow come into view. The bundles they are carrying look to be of branches. "I just didn' want to leave a job half done, you know?"

"Why do you think I'm still here with you?" The first prey leans over, and punches his fellow in the shoulder with a weak fist that... has a familiar shape, doesn't it. "But c'mon, you idiot, let's stop pushing our luck, eh?"

One of the other noises she hears almost snaps her again, that "Malcolm", because the thought it tried to provoke in her was a completely different thought from all of the others and she doesn't know what to do about that, but...

...but then she sees her and she does snap all the way back to human with a loud yelp/howl of, almost of pain because she recognises them. Recognises their shape. Recognises what they are.

They're. Humans. They're humans. Like her. That's her prey, that's the delicious smell, even now she wants to eat them, but she. She has.

Has she.

Has she been eating people all these years?

The sound of her distress catches their attention. "The hell?? What was that?!"

  "... The dead don't yell, and if it were a wolf it wouldn't sound like that..." the other says, slowly.

"... Could be a vampire."

  "All the vampires is dead, you saw that hunter last month. Hunting beasts in the woods instead of anything like one of them. Hey! Are you okay?? Do you need help??"

Nope. Nope. She can't hear them can't process their—words—that's the name for those noises it's words, it's noises that put thoughts in your head like that, specific thoughts, she can't, she's freaking out, did she eat people, like eating her packmates, did she eat the equivalent of her packmates—

They come across her soon enough, one a bit more nervously than the other.

  "Hell," says one, as their pathetic prey (HUMAN!! They're HUMAN.) eyes get into sight range of the hyperventilating and very naked woman. There are assumptions they could make, and they are not nice ones about what must have happened to her. "Someone must've, just dumped her out in the woods when they were done with her, those Silverlight bastards..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're okay, you're away from whoever... we'll get you a blanket and a bowl of stew, it's okay. You'll be okay, shhh...." says Malcolm, because that is the human's name, isn't it, that's what the sound meant. All of his very reasonable and completely justifiable fear has evaporated upon seeing someone in such distress. Upon seeing what he thinks is another human in such distress.

YES because she IS a human in distress. She is DISTRESSED and she is HUMAN and SO ARE THEY and despite all of that she jumps away from them on sight and crouches down in a defensive position with her teeth bared but they are HUMAN TEETH and she ATE HUMANS and now she's crying again, crying for real, and everything is badwronghatred she is a MONSTER she ATE PEOPLE—

The people in front of her help her anyway.

She is soon bundled in a fur coat that is not as strong as her own fur, but much softer. If she won’t walk on her own, they will carry her, even as they cringe at setting off her obvious fear. They don’t want to leave her alone in the woods, especially not at night.

Sure, that might as well be happening. Who cares. She flinches at the touch and definitely flinches when they cover her in furs (and they might find that she runs a lot warmer than most people) but doesn't actually stop them or try to flee.

Then she is carefully carried back to their... camp. It's a camp. The people there look at her with concern and there's a flurry of explanation between the humans, if she's paying attention to anything that they say. Either way, she's given a tent of her very own (there is some shuffling to make this happen) and then given space. And a bowl of stew. Space and a bowl of stew.

She manages to stop actively freaking out in the middle of that and drops to a more passive kind of freakout once she's satisfied she will not in fact accidentally wolf. Paying attention to the words help; she is not tuning them out at all, words are a kind of thing wolves definitely don't do and so if she has words she is not a wolf. By the time she's given stew she's just looking intently at people and trying not to growl whenever she sees them showing teeth, reminding herself that prey humans just show teeth a lot while using words and expressing emotions.

And the stew is... food? She guesses? She's not really sure what to do with it and might be staring at it blankly a bit.

Mostly what the humans are talking about is her.

"Just dumped in the woods, naked as the day she was born, it's those pricks in Silverlight, I'll bet one of them-!!"

  "Hush," says his fellow. "Save your crusading for later, yeah? If you want to help her then she could probably use some clothes, poor thing's like to catch a cold."

"Yeah, all right," agrees the first man, mollified. He then begins going around the camp, apparently acquiring a set of clothes for her.

The woman who served her the stew (everyone seems very agreed that humans of the male persuasion should give her space, for some reason) shows her teeth at her. "It's a bit thin, mind, but Johanson caught a couple rabbits this afternoon, so there's some meat to the broth. We do what we can out here. But what's ours is yours, yeah? No questions asked."

She will show her teeth right back and then remind herself that it was not threatening and then... try to show teeth in a non-threatening way? How does she. Do that. Can she mimic this woman's face? She is not sure she can. She is failing to communicate and she's always been the best wolf at communicating and now she is the worst human at communicating and that's terrible. She should probablu use words but she... doesn't feel particularly capable of that right now.

She doesn't seem offended by the communication attempt. Actually, if anything, the attempt at showing teeth seems to have soothed her a bit.

“What’s your name? I'm Helena."

She doesn't know.

And now she's crying again. She's not sure why. Why is she crying? She never needed a name, she has a scent, she has a voice, other wolves could talk about her fine. But suddenly the idea of not having a name sounds like the absolute worst thing that could possibly ever happen.

"Oh, oh, it's okay, shhh, you don't... You can take some time, all right? Do you need anything? Um. Another blanket???"

A blanket??? Why would she need a blanket. What does that have to do with anything.

She needs a name.

She is not going to get a name if she's making her emotions other people's problem. So instead she stops crying, almost as abruptly as she started, and takes a deep steadying breath so she can try to say words about things.

That... doesn't... really work very well at all. She lets out a sound for sure but that sound is not even a single word.

Helena is giving her a very concerned look, but doesn't say anything else. Her hand sort of jerks towards the once-wolf, like she wants to reach out and touch her, but she doesn't.

She flinches away from the touch. She still doesn't quite trust herself to not try to eat these people—especially given that the alternative seems to be broth—and doesn't want to push it with touching.

Eep! Okay! No touching!! Even if she absolutely looks like she desperately needs a hug. Poor thing. Helena will just... give her space, then. Go busy herself with camp related activities.

And the nameless ex-wolf will... "eat" this... they call this food??? Is that why humans are so frail and weak, would they be stronger and more interesting to hunt if they ate better? Is she going to have to teach these people how to hunt? Wait, they don't have claws or teeth. She supposes that'd explain it, but...

The stew is strange, and there's barely any meat in it.

... but.

There's a nice flavor to it, and there are these... pleasantly mushy things? That are not meat, but filling all the same. And other things with a nice crunch to them. It's... kind of good??

That's. Bizarre? This tastes... almost better than the boar? The boar tasted a lot worse than it used to but this is. Different? There's more?

She's. Kind of confused. She wishes she remembered more of the last time she was a human.

Well, there's enough stew to fill her up. So. Maybe that's enough? For this weak not-wolf form?? It's hard to tell at this instance, but. Well, it was at least interesting to eat, which is more than a lot of other things could say.

Soon enough, she is given a bundle of cloth by an embarrassed man with averted eyes, who then shuffles off without any kind of explanation.

She already has blankets. Why are they giving her more blankets? Are normal weak humans cold all the time? Is that why they're always bundled up in fabric and furs, even here inside this strange cloth building where it's honestly kind of toasty? She's not sure what to do with all this and she feels like she should... show teeth... to express her gratitude. Even though she doesn't feel thankful. And also now he's already gone so she has no one to show gratitude to.

You know what this is? This is too long of feeling disoriented and confused. She needs to figure out how to use words right this instant and she needs to stop spending so much time in her head about how everything's changed. Deal with it, everything's changed, maybe she could wolf back if she tried but right now she's decided she's not going to so she needs to stop comparing everything to how it was when she was a wolf and accept her new reality head-on.

She starts practising mouth sounds quietly under her breath.

Mouth sounds: are super, super tricky, actually!

There's still conversation going on outside. It's even not about her. They're discussing plans for chopping down more trees, and how many more they'll need to complete the log wall around the camp. It seems it'll just be a couple more days until they finish it; they're talking about what they'll do after that, too. Apparently they want to remove the stumps, and then... plant things? Potatoes seems to be the one they all want to get planted sooner rather than later, but other crops are also mentioned. Carrots. Turnips. Onions. Garlic, too, though that one doesn't seem to be primarily for eating. The man who was fretting about it doesn't explain his reasoning, but the other humans do all agree that is is very important and they definitely need more of it.

Paying attention to the conversation will probably be useful, too. She can try mimicking words by trying things with her lips and tongue and throat until she finds something sufficiently similar, and the strange unreliable muscle memory she seems to have is helping a bit, too.

It's tricky! But she has time to figure it out.

Now the humans are figuring out 'watches'. Which seems to be some of them stay up to make sure nothing comes after them in the night, while others get some sleep. But in an organized fashion, so that everyone does get to rest, and they always have someone watching out for them. Apparently they'd had a system before, but... something... changed? Oh. Someone got injured, and someone else needs to take over for them. But it's not clear who, yet. And it's a middle watch, which is apparently disfavored for... some reason. It's not clear yet.

She could help with that!

...but she shouldn't. She... thinks it's probably not a good idea to tell these people that she is a lot stronger than them? Especially if she lets on that she used to, um, eat them? Especially especially if she needs to partially wolf to be properly strong, she does not want to partially wolf around these people. So... she's not going to help.

The nameless, useless ex-wolf keeps practising her words.

They mostly don't seem to expect her to help tonight, anyway! Eventually they'll want her help with things, but the general opinion is that she is allowed to have this one, first night, entirely to herself.

Eventually, the humans all settle down to sleep, except for the one who is keeping watch. It is quiet and still, and if she keeps practicing her words, they might be noticed.

Yeah it's fine if they're noticed, it's already clear that she's been having trouble speaking so it's not like that betrays any information (is it?).

Well, as long as it's kept under her breath, and isn't loud enough to disturb the people around her who are trying to sleep, she's entirely free to continue her practice.

... The camp will be quiet for a while, though. The nights are long, in this land.

She will eventually take a nap, but she's used to her wolf form's crepuscular sleep schedule so she'll be back up in the morning.

By then, other people are up, too. They are bustling around, handling various morning chores. There will be more food, apparently, but there are also various people heading off to gather water and check traps and clean up the camp and whatnot. The food seems to require preparation? Involving slicing it apart with their not-claws and burning it over a fire or adding water to it or... something.

No one has come to check on her yet, but someone likely will eventually.

And when they do she will do her best at imitating the good kind of showing teeth and say, "Good morning!" in what she hopes sounds cheerful and not forced. It's a bit slurred, the "g" sounds kind of raspy and the "ng" kind of wet, but it's probably understandable.

It's someone she recognizes! Helena, apparently.

She brightens upon hearing a greeting. "Good morning! I see you're feeling... oh, uh, you. Those clothes are yours, you know, you don't have to..."

Helena waves vaguely at the woman's very naked form.

Clothes, clothes, those are... oh! "That is not wanted, I am warm," she says, and a beat later she adds a "Thank you!" She's sure that's not how you'd say what she means but she's having enough trouble remembering the words themselves and basic sentence structure, trying to sound natural will be for later.

".... It's, uh. Normal for everybody to wear clothes, even if it's warm. Did. Did you not before...? Oh, nevermind, I don't need to know, it's okay."

The woman sounds... sad? Distressed? "Are you upset?"

"Uhm. In general, no, but. I think you must have been through a lot of terrible things, and the more I learn about you the more apparent it is that you've been treated very badly. Which is upsetting. You're allowed to wear clothes."

...allowed? "I am confused," she says, slowly. "'Allowed'? I know word, but..."

Helena has absolutely no idea how to explain. She makes a despairing face, and instead decides to go with: "Do you need help putting everything on, then? If you don't... have practice??"

The woman is still upset and she doesn't know why but clearly the clothes things are important so she'll just... follow along, she guesses? "Yes," she says, trying to sound—something. Confident? Convinced? Something.

"Okay. ... Though we should probably get you cleaned up first. Mm. Probably directly at the river, you're... quite a mess..."

"Okay," she says, not really wanting to argue.

So she is going to be gently bundled up in her blanket and efficiently marched to the nearby river. There, she gets to be introduced to SOAP, which smells awful (like dead flowers) but does in fact... get a lot of the mud off. Among other things. Huh. While the water is cold, the scrubbing feels nice, and being clean is... also very nice.

But it's freaky to be able to feel so many things directly on her skin she is done comparing her previous life with her present life actually. At least for now. For now she will take things as they come. And actually yeah, being clean does feel pretty nice.

Wearing clothes feels less nice, they're a bit scratchy, but on the other hand it's a bit like having fur again? Wait, but she's not comparing her previous life with her present life, so nevermind. Her sensitive skin is now more protected from the elements, or something.

The fur still on her head is cleaned up a bit with a pair of scissors and a comb. She had a couple mats, but her hair wasn't long enough for it to be really bad; most of it was mud and dirt, and Helena is patient with getting it all detangled. And after everything is brushed out? She gets hairbrushies.

...ooh. That feels just nice. Reminds her of never mind. She's kind of missing her tail right now because she does not know how to express what she's feeling without it but it's good.

Brush brush brush brush! And then her hair is carefully tied out of the way, now preventing it from getting in her face. Mostly. From mostly getting in her face. It is less going to get in her face now than it had been, anyway.

"There! I bet you must feel much better. And you're such a pretty thing!" ... That is probably why she was in the terrible situation she was in, actually!! Nevermind, abort abort!!! "Well. Do you think you're up for helping with some chores? There's always a lot to do, out here."

"Yes. But..." She looks down at her clothes. Which look like blankets. She is wearing long blankets with holes in them for her head and arms. "This get in the way?"

"Oh. Do you prefer breeches? That's a bit uncommon, but some women do, um... I'm not sure we've got any of those spare though..."

"These would... rip?" she says, pointing at the skirt. "If rip is alright then I is- I am alright with it."