cut our teeth and make our bones right here

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

"As opposed to what? Being a highly qualified one?" The wendigo smirks, finding the rhythm of their banter the thing he was most amused by rather than the actual content of it. Quite what it looks like from Isla's—or the interns transcribing it—point of view, Remi has no idea. But down here, on his bed with M&Ms hiding somewhere in his sheets, it all feels perfectly natural.

Until you know, it doesn't.

Perhaps the strangest part about vomiting as a wendigo, was that it wasn't followed by a huge inhale the way it should have been. Remi simply ceased throwing up, such that as he leaned back and wiped his mouth, it might have seemed like some poorly executed bit of theatre. "Mmmmmmm." The wendigo murmured, rubbing between his eyes with one hand before glancing up toward the window—where now, thanks to both his redirected attention and his vision, he could see Isla quite clearly—and pushed his lips together slightly. No eating, apparently. Or at least, not if he could only be human for 15-minute intervals.

Leaving the garbage where it was just in case it needed to be tested or something, Remi straightened, wrapped his arms around himself and gave Ronin a rather vacant stare. "You don't owe me anything." He said in a dull voice.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!