Just when he thought it couldn't get worse it did, another male showed up and he was starting to feel awkward since he was the only one who was not properly dressed. He was muddy bloody and naked, the first aid kit was not overlooked but he didn't want to be treated in a cold forest surrounded by men. Following behind the injured woman he looked for something, anything to cover him but found nothing. His hands would have to suffice, he felt pathetic like a child who grabbed its crotch when it couldn't hold in its urge to urinate. Vincent only covered up himself when he did not feel the woman's eyes upon him, no shame in his manhood but it felt embarrassing to be revealed to a woman that was not a spouse or lover.<br/><br/>As he walked alongside of her, he awkwardly stepped along side of her so he could somewhat cover himself to her.<br/>"So, can you explain what happened back there to me...what is all this talk about packs...the wold...and the man who acts like he is a king..."<br/>The painful headache could be ignored, he was fighting the cold morning and the weakness he was feeling from loss of blood. Vincent wanted to bathe, get stitched up and eat, he was hungry again, famished even. Something was weird once more, in the forest he knew where to go, in which direction his temporary home (the hotel) was. When they were within town limits he hid behind a rock and looked at the woman.<br/>"I am sorry I never got your name..."<br/>He asked before he asked her to do him a favor, walking into the hotel and pretend to be his wife so she could get a copy of his room key and return with anything to wear. Outside his door (luckily no one had noticed until then, due to horrible hit and run accident in a different part of town) were the first signs of him transforming, tattered shirt and a feint elongated handprint.