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West was... nervous wasn't the word he would have used, but perhaps it was still the most apt. He hadn't quite known what to make of Tsetsiliya's Groanspring request, to be honest. Sure, he loved to fight and considered it to be something he did very well, but teaching was not an activity he would put in the same category, and teaching small, innocent, female demons was so far from something that he felt qualified to do that he had almost refused.

He wasn't the introspective sort, but still he couldn't help but think there was more to his reluctance than that. For a time after their stint in Christmas Town, West had been eager enough to want to teach his fellow Jingleberry fan Alwine a thing or two about growing a spine. But he had never bid on Alwine in an auction. He had never gone to a dance with Alwine. He had never spent the majority of said dance dancing with other people. At least Tset hadn't seemed mad. West didn't really want Tset mad at him. He had discovered he vastly preferred when the anger of others was provoked by his deliberate prodding, not Riley's machinations at his expense.

It had taken a good portion of the morning, but West had managed to clear a large amount of floor space in the main room of his dorm. He had left the sand, mostly because it was everywhere, but partially because he thought it would offer more traction than wood alone. Since it was his room, the demon wasn't wearing shoes and was otherwise dressed in some fairly average jeans and a sweater. West was of the opinion that fighting could be done in any sort of clothing simply because that was how he went about things, and as such, he half-grinned at the poludnica's getup as he opened the door and waved her inside. Luckily, the grin could have easily been interpreted as welcoming rather than teasing.

"Hey," he said, grin fading quickly. "How've ya been?"

Oh. Island trauma. Or at least that's what West assumed Tset's problem was, considering all the verbal wavering and sash wringing she was engaging in. It had only been a few days since the majority of the student body had returned from that trip, but he had already encountered quite a number of people who had been deeply affected by their time there. He resisted a sudden urge to ask her what she had seen, at least conscious of the fact that many were reluctant to discuss their hallucinations, himself included if he was being perfectly honest. That she might have been upset over the excess of needless death failed to occur to him, at least for the moment. Carnage and injury were a wrath demon's bread and butter. Well, at least this wrath demon's.

"Guesso," he muttered in response to the ghoul's proclamation that she was less than all right. Between Gabrian, who West had assumed was a fairly placid boil, and now Tset, it seemed like a whole contingent of peaceful students were embracing violence. About time, really.

"Shoes're fine," he replied, noticing her blush when she looked between his feet and her own. "Um... anythin's fine. My first rule fer fightin's ya do it any way y'like." He nodded sharply, crossing the room and turning to face the ghoul. "Now... runnat me. Hit me." It was certainly awkward, demanding that she just go and do something she had come here to learn, but it was the only way he could think of to make her see. Fighting wasn't something West planned beyond deciding who he was going to do it with. It wasn't structured and it certainly wasn't safe, but injuries healed and each time he took a punch and lived to tell about it, he felt as though he could take ten more. Maybe that was a personal thing. He mentally shrugged. If she didn't want to do this, he would find something else to try, at least until he got bored with the whole endeavor.

Out of all the actions West had anticipated Tset might take, her actually doing what he had asked hadn't been one of them. He had actually expected her to balk or ask him to show her "samurai form" or simply walk out. Sure, that would have defeated the purpose of her getting all dressed up and even asking him for training at all, but he still had to give her credit. He certainly wouldn't have stuck around if he went out of his way to visit someone's room only to be told he was required to make cupcakes or something. Not that he would have asked anyone to teach him how to bake in the first place.

"G... good," he said, hesitating in his bewilderment. Her punch hadn't hurt in the slightest, but she deserved encouragement for having thrown it at all.

"So..." He looked down at her and shifted his weight to the other foot. "...Do that. Whaddya need me for?" He smirked. "Y'fraida reapers'n humans in th'forest? Losin' yer friends? Be th'first t'die then. Run in. Surprise 'em. Don't be scared. I promise y'won't miss yer friends when yer dead." Oddly enough, he wasn't actively trying to upset her. He was simply curious as to why she was holding back. Okay, maybe he was unconsciously trying to goad her a bit as well, but that was to be expected coming from him.

"I guess we can workkon yer punch... strength," he muttered, his smile fading as he began to plan.

The wrath demon slowly began to pace while he thought, but it wasn't dramatic or even particularly impatient pacing given the limited amount of space he had to work with. He wasn't much of a trainer, a fact that was becoming more and more obvious every time he opened his mouth. He didn't know the first thing about setting ghouls up with weights or punching bags or inspiring internal strength or whatever. How was he going to make her stronger, or at the very least, less afraid of not being strong enough? There were plenty of things she could do to take the advantage in a fight, but how to articulate...

"What?" he asked, turning toward Tset. He could have sworn he heard her mention something about changing forms. She could do that? He hadn't known. West shuffled to a stop, taking a few steps closer to the ghoul and peering at her as if he could see her other form by just staring at her long enough.

"Yeah," he said finally, his features softening slightly as his lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. "Might help. 'Specially if y'turn into somethin' s'tall as three'a me wit'claws as long as yer arm." He smirked. "Can y'do it here? Y'need me t'turn around'r anythin'?" He dropped his gaze and backed up a couple of steps, seeming to suddenly recall that intimidation was occasionally counterproductive. "Or... the bathroom's over there. Outside?" It was clear he had no idea what she was capable of becoming.

Even though he was already several paces away from Tsetiliya, West took another step back when she began to change. Whatever he had been expecting was clearly nothing compared to what was actually going down. At first, due to the fact that she was growing taller, West thought she might have been turning into a boil, but once she truly began to... fill out, he realized he had been quite wrong to assume anything of the sort.

Until this moment, West had never thought Tset seemed terribly young. Small, yes. Shy, sure. Fragile, perhaps. But compared to what she had become... the two were very different. Annoyed to find that he was staring, West lowered his gaze to her feet. When she spoke, he looked up again, the ghost of a smile lingering on his face.

"Yeah, that'll do. 'Specially if y'change in fronna whoever yer fightin'." The difference had certainly shocked him. His eyes narrowed slightly before returning to a more neutral expression. "Issat hard?" It seemed she was straining a bit. It didn't matter. They'd be finished soon. West waved a hand dismissively and took a couple of steps back.

"Hit me again. Be angry, not scared. You'll be strong'nuf." He nodded and raised his arms, preparing to be struck.

Whether or not she was telling the truth about holding her transformation wasn't really important to West. As long as she managed to fight, to throw even one punch in this form, he was prepared to consider this lesson a success.

He watched Tset as she seemed to ready herself to hit him, her expressions running the gamut from indecipherable to surprisingly telling. But this time he didn't need what was flitting across her face to know how she was feeling. He could almost taste her anger.

The rage that flared in others had once drawn him to them like beacons through the fog, but soon after he had arrived here, right after the class trip to Christmas Town, in fact, the ability had seemingly gone haywire, occasionally driving him to distraction with its ferocity, but most of the time barely pinging his radar.

He stood up straighter, dropping his hands in surprise and subsequently catching Tset's hit squarely in his chest as she darted forward. West made a soft sound somewhere between pain and surprise and brought a hand back up to the spot she had hit, the smirk forming on his lips fading just as quickly when she began to change and fell to the floor.

Without thinking, he knelt and held out a tentative hand toward the ghoul, as if he was going to prod at her rather than help her. Either way, he didn't actually touch her. "You okay?" It would be bad if Tset died in his room. It would be bad if Tset died in general, considering what she had just accomplished. "Um... y'want some water?"

West stood again once the ghoul was back on her feet. Being able to remain upright was always a good sign someone wasn't dying, especially if they didn't pass out while you were getting them water, which West sincerely hoped Tset wasn't planning on doing. He held up a finger, indicating that he was leaving the room and she shouldn't go running off, then hurried into his bathroom, retrieving a bottle of water from the small refridgerator he kept there.

"Y'did good," he said as he reentered the main room, holding out the bottle toward her. "I might'ven bruise," he said proudly, pressing the fingers of his free hand to the spot where she had hit him. "But, uh, don't'pologize'r nothin'. When y'hit someone it's meant t'hurt." He smirked as she spoke, as pleased by her words as he had been by the clarity of her anger. Even when people enjoyed their rage, he found it left them feeling dirty, much like he assumed all the specialities of his fellow avarice demons did. He didn't really have that problem, at least on the wrath front. "I think it is," he said, his voice low. West shook his head. "But I dun think you should be runnin'round smackin' people t'feel... uh... lib'rated." The thought was kind of funny, actually.