Touch

As I become closer to various members of the Tribe, it seems that routine physical contact is expected. Urukha in particular has started to assert various gestures: a pat on the arm, a clap on the pauldron. Or, in rare cases, a hug.

I have taken to expressing my affection for Whiteclaw by manipulating parts of his armor. Usually nudging the staff on his back or batting at the decorative dangles on his shoulders. Given that he sometimes greets with a lick to the face, this seems an appropriately oblique behavior. Yesterday when he confessed that he was in pain, I massaged his shoulder briefly for him - when he was in his feline form, of course.

However, with others there is a bit of complexity. When Whiteclaw changed into his moonkin form the other day, Vindy fled in fright. So I offered my hand and assurances in order to still her distress. She took it and did not release me for several minutes. When she did, she was no longer afraid, but she was puzzled.

She asked the question, rather bluntly. Why was it warm? I replied that it was not so, and that my glove had absorbed the heat from her own hand. I offered proof by giving her my hand again, and drew Frost into myself. This satisfied her expectations, I believe. “For Science,” she said.

I try to avoid direct contact like this as much as possible. It is not usually difficult, as most possess a natural disinclination toward the undead. And, of course, that I am most often utterly covered in heavy metal plates.