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Huh, had he interrupted something? Because that smile on Short Stuff was really starting to creep Drew out. As though the sword wielding nut job wanted to eat Drew and not in any way that Drew would find enjoyable in the slightest! And how had Short Stuff learned his name?! Much less the whole darn thing! It was unnerving is what it was! Was he psychic as well as immortal?! Oh wait...he'd rummaged through Drew's clothes and taken his wallet hadn't he? Yeah, yeah he did. His driver's license was in that wallet. And that particular piece of plastic had his full name on it.

Realizing that didn't stop that creepy smile though. Nor did it stop him from flinching when that arm went around his neck. His neck! It was a small flinch, lord knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he'd done much more than wince for a moment, but still. And the fact that there was subtext, sooo much subtext, beneath Short Stuff's words didn't make him feel any better. Was he making sure that the white haired man knew who was killing Drew? Or, and this was so improbable that he scoffed the moment he thought of it, warning said man away from hurting Drew? Bah, if he was warning the white haired man away it was just so that he could kill Drew later. Nope, that promise wasn't going aaaanywhere anytime soon.

And whatever it was either the healer hadn't picked up on it or he didn't care or he approved of it. Considering you would have had to been deaf and blind not to pick up the subtext in Short Stuff's statement Drew wagered it was one of the other two. That familiar feeling of being trapped was settling in and Drew didn't like it. Or if not trapped then at least woefully uninformed. Still, when in Rome and Short Stuff had made a point of using his full name.

"Nice to meet you. Malako already spared me the need to introduce myself. So thoughtful of him."

And he took the offered hand with a firm grip and shook it. Now how soon until he regretted it?

After the ever awkward explanations were through the white haired man appeared to have no more interest in Drew. His attention split off to Malako, or Short Stuff as Drew preferred to call him. With advice on cleaning his sword. Strange healer. Either way, Drew was left for a time to consider his position carefully. It wasn't one that Drew liked. Though the issue of clothes was soon to be sorted there was still the fact that the guy that had brought him here was not happy with him. Sure he hadn't been overtly bitter or vengeful toward him since the initial stabbing but Drew wasn't about to trust a brand new promise and a healer of unknown intentions with his continued health.

Short Stuff was likely still angry about the promise that Drew was NEVER going to release if he had his way. And the healer had no say in who he healed apparently. Didn't ask questions. Didn't even pause to consider Drew before he healed him. He just did. So he was either just that nice, not likely with Short Stuff working for him, or he had no more control of his healing than Drew did of his promises. Plus he was just plain wary of people that toted swords that casually now.

So upon reaching the clothing bins Drew rapidly collected a few items that looked like they'd fit.

"Thanks for all this, by the way." he addressed toward the white haired man as he retreated from the room toward the back of the church. Maybe with some luck he could find a way out of the this place, and thus away from possible further damage from a sharp implement, in the back. After he got dressed of course.

Short Stuff apparently didn't feel like telling the white haired man what had happened. Drew on the other hand suffered from no such compulsions. In fact, for the moment, he suffered no compulsions at all. The stint as a dog had done more than just give him brief freedom. It had also reset his promises in a manner of speaking. It was as though he had just made each of them. Drew was incredibly grateful for that and for the healing that was swiftly seen to in moments without any apparent effort on the part of the white haired man. So when the white haired man demanded answers Drew decided to oblige. He owed the man that much.

"It was my fault. Short St...er...he was just minding his own business and I picked a fight. My mutation came into play and he didn't react well to it."

Drew shrugged his left arm.

"I keep promises and make other people keep their promises to me. I can't release them though and that didn't sit well with him."

There was that small lie again. Not that he was about to tell the whole truth even if there was a healer around to fix them both up. So he was definitely not mentioning Martin and what had led him to picking that fight in the first place. Nor was he going to reveal that he could release a person from a promise they made. Drew valued his neck and the rest of his body too much for that. Especially since the healer had swords too and Drew would just bet that he knew how to use them better than Short Stuff did. It wasn't something he really wanted to test. He turned to Short Stuff.

"Sorry about that, by the way."

Make nice with the people that have bladed weapons. Especially since you are naked and have very little way of defending yourself if they take offense to you existence.

Several things happened at once. Rebecca fell and instead of staying in the game, ceded her spot. Poor Darren got stepped on by a very determined sounding Agnes. And Gina decided to quote a kidnapper. But first things first. Drew gave Rebecca a smile.

"Go right ahead, not like the seat is taken."

As she asked for the spinner Drew shrugged and handed it over, but not before leaning over and whispering in her ear.

"If you want to have a little fun with them it's not like they'll notice if you don't call out what the spinner says."

Then he leaned back in his seat and gave Agnes and Gina a serious look.

"I'd better not see any iocane powder out there! Otherwise Princess Buttercup over here gets it!"

Drew grasped Rebecca's arm lightly and feigned holding a dagger to her throat for emphasis. Did that make him Humperdink? Ugh, oh well. Better Humperdink than Count Rugen. At least Humperdink was still alive at the end of the movie.

Everything smelled so new and interesting now! There were things that had smells that he'd never even known had smells. Even people had smells! In the time from the site of their fight to this place the more human thoughts in his puppy brain had worked out that Short Stuff had shifted him to keep him alive. It had been meant as a mercy and since Short Stuff seemed so desperate that he stay in that form until they got where ever they were going Drew had obliged by not trying very hard to figure out how to shift back. Of course that wasn't the only reason.

Reason one was simple. He'd been changed to this form when he was bleeding badly and might have died. When he was a puppy he wasn't hurt. Drew was reasonably reluctant to change back and find out if his wounds were still there. Reason two was the novelty. Everything was new and exciting. From the tail he suddenly possessed to that shiny speck on the sidewalk that he just had to sniff. It was all so interesting that Drew was pretty content to stay a dog just to explore.

But the last reason was the most important. When he was a dog he was free. Somewhere between bleeding and here, where ever here was, Drew had discovered that like this his promises didn't follow him. Despite being somewhat puppyish Drew felt the most like Drew that he had in months. All those promises took a toll on a man's mind. Warped him from who he truly was. In this body he could think and feel clearly and it was wonderful! Just being given a chance to reconnect with who he was without those promises. A chance to clear his head was astounding. It gave him time to think about things and decide that while he'd initially been pretty ecstatic about the new dimension of his power he wasn't so joyous about it now. Putting other people under the same chains that weighed him down. Unburdened by those chains it seemed a monstrous thing to do.

But to look at the grey and black puppy you wouldn't know he was thinking such thoughts. Not with the way he was wandering, against Short Stuff's orders, around the new place and cataloging the smells. Of course after a moment he heard mention of a puppy and turned to look at the man. He had a horn! And a tail! And his hair was white but he didn't look that old to Drew. So he immediately categorized him as a mutant. And then he went back to sniffing around. There were other smells to smell before he paid attention to the white haired guy!

He felt as weak, helpless, and pathetic as he looked. Of that Drew was sure. He was still losing blood and Short Stuff had him by the collar. The hole in his gut hurt. Drew could push past it if he tried but it did hurt. He was hurt and bleeding and lying to the man that was killing him. If he had to die because of a stupid mistake in a stupid fight then he wasn't going to give the punk that did it the satisfaction of walking away uninjured. He would die and then Short Stuff would suffer for it. It was funny. Dying was funny but more than that Drew was almost laughing over the fact that he'd worked so hard to get to be an X-Man. Months of training and straining so that he'd been more than just useless baggage. And it would end here on the streets over something stupid. It made Drew feel like a moron. All that lovely control that these fights evoked vanished into the air like so much smoke.

"That's me." he croaked with a laugh, "The weak idiot. Still can't get rid of it though. Sorry."

Why wasn't he telling the truth? Why wasn't freeing Short Stuff of the promise? Because he was stupidly holding on to the notion that the promise would make the guy stop and maybe he'd survive. It was a stupid hope but it was all he had. That and the idea that vengeance would be delivered with his death. It was enough to make him smile stupidly at Short Stuff.

"Well since you've got me standing shall we dance a bit before I bleed out? Oh and sorry for the blood. If you need dry cleaning whatever's in my wallet should help cover it."

Blood loss made him sillier. Silly was ok though since he was beginning to feel faint.

Great, an immortal Short Stuff. That was even better. Why had Drew thought he was fighting on even ground again? Oh yeah, because he'd thought he was fighting a human. Now he was locked in a fight with an immortal mutant. 'Cus you just couldn't be an immortal human. That just didn't happen. He didn't want to fight anymore but it seemed he was destined to take his licks for the gross error in judgement he'd made. At the hands of a Short Stuff that hauled around medieval weaponry in a poster tube.

Crap.

"Great, so you lay in a pool of your own blood with nothing to ease the pain until you heal enough to go somewhere else or someone finds you."

It was worth a shot right? No one liked pain. Drew knew that he didn't, even if he could tolerate amounts of it that he would have found astonishing months ago. Amazing what you could do when you had no choice but find the strength or break, eh? Hopefully it would work. Drew did not want to be shish kadrew. And yet the pointy object had other ideas. Drew did not get out of the way in time. Shish kadrew anyone?

"Ouch?"