Somewhere along the line, Arathel had taken the form of a young man, wearing a leather jacket, a white T-shirt and jeans.  That was just something he did sometimes, without any real fanfare, though rarely in the company of someone he didn't to some degree trust.  There didn't seem to be any real rhyme or reason to the changes, at least not one that easily presented itself.<br/><br/>He smiled at the gentle tune of the song, letting himself relax a bit on the ride over.  "Dates are an inherently human invention," he explained.  "So are the hours.  Day and night are simple enough, certainly, but to what purpose is it to note that a particular day is coming except in regard to things that happen with other humans?"  He shrugged simply as if the matter were that obvious.  Truth be told, he was starting to try to get used to dates, but the way that they kept ending in strange intervals kept throwing him off.  He still remembered the way that one gentleman had laughed when he'd guessed it to be the 43rd of April.<br/><br/>When the car stopped, he followed along through the rain, but unlike Otis he was much more content to simply walk at a slow and casual pace.  The rain came down and soaked him through, drenching his form and squeezing his clothes over him like putty stuck tight to his body.  The white of his T-shirt was now a soft pink, completely transparent to show the muscles on his chest.  He followed behind Otis in silence, looking curious but not yet about to speak up when Otis was there to explain everything.