It's--

[Hound is more than arms' length away before Ben relaxes enough to say anything in reply. Hound won't care, anyway-- he reminds Ben vaguely of his younger brother, Colin. Not a great resemblance to have.]

It's blood to-- to-- s-saliva.

[He scrubs a hand through his hair, watching Hound's retreating form. Think fast, Ben-- you can't afford to make enemies here, and this guy is crew. Ignore the relative cuteness. He's useful. Stop thinking in terms of friendship, because that's obviously the farthest thing from this guy's mind. Other than, you know, the lycanthropy contamination.

He chases after Hound and grabs him by the elbow.]

L-listen, please. You're-- you're not infected, I'd-- I'd smell it on you, I-- I have licked plenty of faces to know this much, if that's-- if that's what you're worried about the contagion being. I know that sounds stupid, but-- but please.

How can I make it up to you? I'm-- I'm sorry. Please. I'll do-- I'll do anything.

[....Ben, I don't think that last sentence means what you think it means, considering how quick you are to throw it around.]