"Alright, then, we'll chill here for a bit." Darran puts his back to the wall and stretches his arms over his head, still scanning each side of the hallway every few seconds. He mostly keeps his eyes averted from Aaron; it's embarassing to see him in pain and struggling just to sit up.

One thing he broods chews over while Aaron's sorting himself out is where the fuck they are. He used to live in Camden, then Philadelphia, but this sure as shit ain't Philly. Then things get fuzzy and confused, but didn't he spend a lot of time in spirit realms? There was something... he and his pack had to move quick, from realm to realm, for... reasons? He must be trapped in some freaky spirit realm, that's the only explanation that makes sense. Some freaky clockwork realm with fucking dogs made out of fucking fire.

He doesn't miss Aaron's Rite of Binding, though it mostly just reminds him of the predicament he's in. Goddamn it, he's pretty sure he could do that too, if only he could fucking shift up. He remembers for damn sure that he's got a weapon or two spiritually tied to his werewolf form. And if he could shift back down to human, instead of being stuck in it, he'd have a decent pair of jeans and could trash this fucking jumpsuit.