The man scoffed at the sound of her working for a bookstore, mentally remembering the copious amounts of literature she kept in her room and had scattered around various tables. “Of course you’re a... A... What subculture was it that you people say? Oh yeah, a<span style="font-style: italic">nerd</span>.” He playfully dismissed, looking to Hana to see if he had used the phrase properly.<br/><br/>Crone’s face, through, soon turned to one of scowl when Hana pointed the fork at him, looking down to his waist and picking through a lock of his messed mop. “Wait, this isn’t considered gorgeous in your society? You people are daft,” He remarked as Hana strode around him, glancing back to the newspaper and flicking through the images of human men wearing trendy, short hairstyles. “Most of these so called, ‘hot’, looks on here look like freakin’<span style="font-style: italic">roosters</span>,” he snorted, pointing to the various images of men wearing modern undercut hairstyles. “And I have to talk to people at an interview? Blimey, the more I converse with you, the more I realise how much of a pain it is to live on this planet as a long limbed meat-bag.” As he tried to distinguish the obscure, scribbled symbols for letters on the papers, he allowed Hana to fiddle her fingers through his hair. He had to admit; he was slowly growing accustomed to the idea of cutting it. It<span style="font-style: italic">did</span>feel thick and heavy on his head, and besides, appearing more ‘attractive’ to a larger demographic of humans could mean gaining the favour of other humans... And who knew, they may even just let him snack on them when the time came to turn back into a demon. It would definitely be easier than doing<span style="font-style: italic">this</span>all over again.<br/><br/>But some musings just had to be soured. Hana mentioned that his hair would have to be ‘washed’. What did 'wash' connote to, again? Ah, that’s right.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Water.</span><br/><br/>He gulped. Crone and water had never been the best of companions. ‘No, Crone, stay strong, you must do it for the sake of leaving this hell-hole,’ he thought, feeling his palms getting clammy as he turned to Hana with the best confident face he could muster whilst silently worrying. “O-okay!” He voice managed to waver despite best intentions. Memories of hunting in the rain at night flooded back to Crone’s thoughts. As a once-painting, even Crone the wolf demon would worry that the liquid coming from the sky would seep and smudge into the painterly brush strokes that essentially composed his entire being. He retracted his hand under the table to pinch his skin. That’s right, he was a human now, with waterproof skin; there was absolutely nothing to worry about... Hopefully.<br/><br/>Standing up from the table, he stood beside Hana. “What does this ‘washing’ procedure entail, girl?” His face, hardened from trying to remain calm, traced their way down the house hallway. Allowing the opposing girl to lead the way, he scratched the back of his neck and tried to obey her following instructions.