[When Geralt says why exactly he's there. Cloud can't help but be surprised. The surprise is shown in a small way- a quiet way- with a quick flick of too bright eyes to his face from where they'd previously rested to the side, in anticipation of movement from said stairwell.

But yes. No more- Geralt has his attention. He's grateful, at least, for the other man's brevity. There's no wasted words in his statement, it's simple, clear, precise. ...It's just the content which he's not that grateful for. ...And that, as well as Geralt's lean forward, is misinterpreted. ]

Don't remember. Never do.
...But look, if you're here for payback, It's going to have to wait. I don't have time to screw around with you.

[He's not good with people, okay.]

[See, that's the thing. Cloud was a person which had Big Feelings. Big, big big big big feelings, but tended to filter them. Anything and everything that tended to leave him, be it words, actions, is something that's gone through second, third, fourth thoughts, and many more than that. What Geralt's viewing, what's attributed as being a cranky bastard, is learned behaviour, stemming from...

Well. Before Shinra fucked him up further, that's for sure.

...And maybe, as a wolf, with the absence of that human side micromanaging everything, without nurture, only nature, it's different. Very much so. The wolf side of him is only viewable in the flash of his tail at the side of him, a rhythmic thump thump thump on the door's frame.

...Until it's caught in a hand, and grasped to the extent it stops.
...He keeps hold of it for good measure.]


....Right.

[Excuse him, but if you're not here for a fight, why-
Oh. He can't hide the scepticism in his eyes as Geralt explains, but he does step away from the door.]

If you're not gonna make any noise, you can come in. You came a long way.

[Why is this guy checking in on him, though???

He walks through a large room, a sitting room, probably, judging by the open fireplace, assorted sofas and a table between them, leading the other man to a kitchen. And he fills a pan with some water, lighting a stove before setting it down.]

...Like I said, I don't remember anything.

[Though his eyes are certainly drawn to the medallion around his neck. Did he dream of something like it?]

And you do. ...So what happened?

[The stove isn't anything interesting. It's old, wrought-iron, and as traditional as traditional got... boring in every way, shape and form. Yet he finds himself staring at it intently. It's better than looking Geralt's way, anyway. Especially when he asks that question.]

...Don't know.

[His voice is distant. Because, after all, he's entirely unsure of how he acts as a wolf. Does he act like himself? Or something else entirely? He doesn't know.]

I try not to let people see me like that, so I got nothing to go on. All I ever remember's the day after. It's... not good.

[He finally moves his eyes to the other man. In the dim light the stove affords the darkened room, his eyes are practically glowing. Normally, it'd probably be an idea to turn on a light. But he's got a feeling, Geralt being a turnskin wolf and all, that he's got no issue seeing perfectly well in the dark.]

...But you remember? When you change? How?

[Not a verbal answer, or an exact one. Okay.
He doesn't press the matter. Instead, he focuses on what he has been given, and... it's troubling. With Tifa, he's maxed for bonds. Last time, he remembered nothing. Just waking up... muddy, wanting to puke, and somewhere he sure as hell shouldn't have been. And honestly? He still hasn't found the right words for Zack about that, let alone talking about it here.

So. He's silent for a while, considering.
It's... something to do with him rather than what he is, right?
Has to be.

Mid-consideration, the kettle finally boils. He's quick about setting it off the stove, not wanting the whistling sound to wake the man upstairs.]

I've only got coffee. Hope that's alright.

[Mugs are found. And... there's no milk. Sorry about that. Lactose is kind of an issue. Regardless, some coffee is prepared, and mid handing it over...]

You know Zack?

[Colour him surprised.]

...Yeah. He's a chimera, so he changes on a full moon too. I don't want anything to happen.

['Anything' being instinct kicking in. Zack's... safe, he thinks, as a human around him. As a chimera? He's not sure. And it's something he doesn't want to risk. Regardless, practically before he'd even taken a breath from his previous statement-]

You know anything? About what happened to him last month, or who was behind it?

[He's concerned, okay.]

... I've been out of town for most of last month. Found a cwyld nest. Got trapped inside of it for a while. So I missed everything.

[Oh, Geralt. You don't know the half of what he's encroached as a wolf. And, perhaps he'd be inclined to show him some souvenirs from a few moons ago, hoping they could be explained. ....But not at the immediate moment. For as soon as Geralt responds to the question he's already asked, his gaze lowers. His hand moves to the stove, and...

...He doesn't know what he's doing. It's nervous habit, more than anything, accompanied by his teeth gripping the inside of his cheek, hand grasping at anything- just to try and steady itself. Experimentation, after all, and in reference to Zack is...

There's no words for it.]

He didn't tell me anything I could use. Worried I'll go out there, probably, and-

[His gaze moves to him.]

Heard anything? About what happened to them, where they took the people they-

[Pause.]

Did that to?

For a human, probably. Might as well get some use out of being this way.

[He's... just going to have to focus himself. It's easier said than done. He's silent for a few moments as he leans against the counter, lifting his own coffee to his lips. How can he focus as a wolf? It's one thing going out there, then changing, and trying to pick up something that might not be so apparent to humans, but... he's going to get distracted, he knows it. He'll see or smell something, and it'll be useless...]

...Failing that, there's breaking into where the ones that got picked up're being kept and getting what I need out of 'em.

[That's far more his speed. Breaking, entering, causing hell. He raises his eyes abruptly, suddenly aware that he's speaking what's usually thought.]

...I mean, It could be done. I guess.

[Pls don't rat him out, wolf!fren.]