Welcome to Gaia! ::

He made a noise in his throat, a deep thrum that reverberated and could be felt. Owain considered the vista around them: the dorms, the main HQ, the training fields, hunters dotting the premise. Everything was so small and yet sovast at the same time now that he was in a borrowed body.

"I will tell you what I can when we arrive at our destination. Are there any forests?" he asked, looking contemplative. "A jungle? A copse or park? Turf not previously claimed by combatants? If not, the beach will do."

Brightening considerably, Owain followed her lead. "Groot is...the one from your, ah..." He struggled to remember the words. "Motion picture? Sadly golems have more restrictions than they do liberties; I do not even recall what I could have done had I more freedoms. But it is good enough to touch the earth with mine feet again," he declared with a fond smile. "What survival skills did you acquire there?"

"All important skills to have," he noted with a nod, then chortled. "Sweet Chelsea, I do not emit gasses of any sort! Quite the opposite in fact, if what I have gleaned about your natural trees is true."

He tapped his forehead. "I will admit that there are some gaps I long to fill, yes...But what I wish for is secondary. My purpose is to be a weapon: to defend and support my wielder." A sigh. "Even if he is being difficult."

"That, I do." He sighed again and his leaves rustled with it. "And when they run contrary to his will, matters become complicated."

They were at the edge of the forest now. Owain glanced back again to make sure Jack was still following, then nodded to Chel and ventured in. The Lifer remained at the threshold of the forest, watching them for a few moments before settling down, his back to a tree, his file carefully opened in his lap.

The giant didn't speak at first, his eyes turning skyward as they entered the little forest. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, relaxing. "Ah, to be in the shade again..." He shook his head like a dog, dug his toes into the dirt, and looked satisfied.

"I do not know where to begin, my lady, nor where the boundary between explanation and invasion of privacy lies...But it would pain me to add to your burdens," Owain said earnestly. "You have suffered enough, in no small part thanks to him."

Spying the spot she meant, Owain nodded and strode over. Rather than sit on the boulder, however, he sat on the ground with a creaky grunt. Dirt was preferable to stone.

"I did not mean to offend," Owain said gently, digging his toes into the ground once more. "It is my nature to be sweet as he is sour, moreso because I know he has hurt you; monikers are my habit. If there is a preference for what you wished to be called, please let me know."

He hesitated and scratched behind his ear. "I do not suppose it is too bold of me to say that he has not been the same in weeks," he said slowly. "He has become more prone to violence."

"Oh. Oh! I see." He smiled a little, but it faded. "I have pieces of the puzzle," Owain said, "but I do not know the exact order. Originally I believed it was conditioning from the Sahara. What we experienced there..."

He shuddered, leaves and even his branches quivering. He dug his feet more into the ground.

"Now I am not so certain. Something in him has shifted since that mission, though I cannot pinpoint what it might be." He frowned. "What I do know is that when faced with doubt or with what he cannot control, he turns to his anger for succor. That is his constant." Jack had told her about the infirmary encounter with Peyton, had let her hear the black satisfaction in his voice when he said he tried to strangle her.

"Only recently has he slipped and lost control of it." Owain said as he eyed her sympathetically. "It is not just anger now but bitterness. Bile. An outlet would normally work, such as a spar, but I fear that it might only make matters worse at this time..."

Owain made a soft noncommittal sound in his throat that sounded remarkably like the kind Jack made; unlike his wielder, however, the giant was comfortable with showing strain. "I could say the same of you, my sweet," he replied, gently manipulating her hand until he could see the splinters. With fingers as thin and long as his, they worked well as built in tweezers. He looked to Chel for permission to remove them, his eyes bright with concern. "A lot has happened in a short time to us both. I know Jack. I do not know you, and thus I worry. My impression is that you choose to smile even as others dig at your roots, and that you reach out to others even," he glanced at the splinters, "as their thorns may p***k you."

Just because Jack didn't choose to see it didn't mean her behavior went unnoticed.

"Whether or not I can convey Hanna that information is up to him," Owain said with a frown. "I do not think, however, that he will allow it. She is perceptive enough; if he proceeds in the same manner, it will become obvious. Perhaps that is enough to stop him." He didn't sound pleased either way.