Bjørn's comment about hugs has the young thief raising his eyebrows and reminding him that they can't be too firm. Then Tipsy makes a wisecrack about needing help handling hugs and the hunter rumbles a low chuckle, before saying, "Oh, you'll understand soon enough." The rest of the trip was uneventful, both men lost in their own thoughts and the townhouse soon came into view. It wasn't long before Bjørn was leading Tipson up to his front door, readying to knock, and dodging out of Ren's path. The were-woman's words puzzle the hunter and he is left ponder why she would miss him. Had... she had been worried, about him? Ren's attention shifts to Tipson who coolly plays the boy next-door. Standing to the side, Bo wonders why someone has missed his presence... in his own home. For so long, there has been no one to notice when his coming and goings, no emotional ties to hold him down and no one to hurt... not even a pet.

As Bjørn watches Ren look over Tipsy, emotions roll behind the hunter's hazel eyes, uncertain of exactly what he is feeling. Should he apologize to her? Pulling his gaze from Ren as she hugs Tipsy, his eyes wander over to find the twins hiding in a corner, shadows obscuring their slender forms. It is too much for the normally solitary hunter and he does not wait for Ren or the young thief as he quickly steps over the threshold into his townhouse. The friendly tones of the were-woman's voice reach his ears, instructing them to follow her and Bo hunches his shoulders while mumbling a quick apology. He ducks his head as moves further in, watching out the corner of his eye as Raven and Mayuza step out from their hiding spots as Ren and Tipson follow closely behind him.

The hunter is suddenly acutely aware of the blood that splatter his clothes and dot his skin. Panic starts to set in and Bjørn calmly says, "I need to change. You guys start without me. I will be down soon." He didn't want for answers or acknowledgement, instead turning to flee upstairs to his room as soon as the words left his lips. Once there, he firmly shuts the door behind him and locks it before the hunter slowly sinks to the floor. He keeps his back propped up against the door, a barrier between him and this strange new world he has found himself in. Curling his knees up to chest, Bo plants his elbows on his raised legs and buries his face in his hands. What the hell is wrong with him? Why does he suddenly feel so overwhelmed? It has been almost a hundred years since he saw that look of worry that had glittered in those oceanic depths for him. It had hurt just as much as the day he had told his mother what had happened to him.

With his face buried in his hands, Bjørn squeezes his eyes shut and tries to fight off the memories that threaten to drown him. Eyes filled with worry, and words spoken with urgency pound into him, calling him back to his old life. He will never again feel the familiar safety of his family's farm. The sword buckled across his back suddenly feels like it is suffocating him and he feels the walls slowly moving inward. Moving to crush the stunned hunter. No. It's not supposed to be this. No one should care about him, they are a weakness that can be exploited... they can't care about him. The air leaves the room and suddenly he cannot breathe. Bo staggers to his feet and lurches toward the toilet in his master bathroom, emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the porcelain throne. He stays kneeling for moment before reaching up and hitting the flush. Slowly, Bjørn climbs back to feet and leans heavily against the counter, staring at his reflection in the dark bathroom mirror. The terrified face of a young farm boy stares back at him.

Shit. Bjørn runs a hand over his face, before unbuckling the silver broadsword from his back. Carefully, the hunter divests himself of his blood-flecked clothing, deposited it in a pile on the floor. The room is dark but he makes no move to turn on any lights, instead padding silently over to the shower in the darkness. His eyes are sharp and the hunter can make everything out. The darkness lets him disappear for a moment and he turns the shower on high. Waiting for the water to warm up, Bo leans his head against the glass door, repeating softly, "Don't get attached, never get attached." The words had been drilled into him a million times by Ingrid, his mentor and the one who had forced this life on him. She had drilled into him the necessity of no ties, no friendships... no family. As he steps into the scalding hot shower, he lets the drops pelt his skin while wondering how he let this happen. How had he failed in his one task?