Egfor counts off on his fingers, "Loud, lewd, crude, obnoxious, brazen, too forward, brash, too lust driven, impulsive, alcoholic..." He sighs, shaking his head, "I tone that down around certain people, like you, but it is who I really am and most find me insufferable."
Cesistya pauses a moment, trying to figure out how to politely say 'you just described most of the people who come in here'. "I-I think, perhaps, we are seeing different people. Are you sure your words are your own, and not those of a dark denizen of your heart, who wishes to do you harm...?"
Egfor frowns gently, "My own and of others- told to me directly. Those I considered my closest friends eventually left due to it."
Cesistya shook her head, "Forgive me, Mister Egfor... b-but for someone so genuinely concerned with the feelings of others to believe that they are... crude... o-or obnoxious... I simply cannot believe it. Verily, you said you are taking pains not to offend me; does that not show that you care for the joy of others? Is that not a worthy trait?"
Egfor listens to Cesistya's words then nods slowly, taking a shaky breath. "I wish others saw in me what you do. What did I do then, to be deserving of abandonment constantly? What did I do wrong for those I cherish to turn a cold shoulder and never speak to me again. I am lost, I am confused." His voice broke a little, trying his best to hide it. He clears his throat, taking a swig of his wretched vice, brandy.
His heart clenched, pounding with a horrible ache. I wondered how much more pain and abandonment the poor thing could handle. Not alot, he reckoned.
Cesistya replies, "... you... do not strike me as a liar, Mister Egfor... n-nor one who would... manipulate others. I fear it... m-may simply be... you have not found the right folk. You move at a swift pace; you live life with a fullness of heart. Others... ... ah, f-folks like me... p-prefer a ... gentler pace. Perhaps it is no more than that; your heart fell into the hands of one who could not keep pace."
Egfor rubs his eyes with a hand, "I hate lying and manipulating. My father did both of those. I resent him. I move swift because I am running out of time fast. I fear I shall die before I find the right folks or one to share my heart with, thank you for your words though."
Egfor was afraid, of what this abandonment may turn him into. He feared, and felt, himself grow bitter and cold with each drawing breath. He feared that he may look at everyone with ice cold looks and spit daggers in his words. He could feel it coming, as much as he tried to resist it. He felt that his father was coming alive again through him. He hated it. This is what he feared the most. It was coming to pass, like father, like son.
He felt hsi heart, once brimming full and bursting forth with an over abundance of love and care suddenly grow ice cold. He felt his taste for the meadows flowers and idyllic springs fade, and now he craved flesh and blood.
His antlers and lithe grace faded, and in its place, it was replaced with fangs and sharp claws. He lost his mantle and donned a new one. Stag no longer, for now he became a wolf. A snarling beast biting at all who dare to get to close, lunging at the throat of false promises and fake words of love and friendship. Should those who left him decide to speak to him again, they will find him a changed man.
He pushed himself up from the floor, murmuring, "I need more brandy."
