Being Lunar, born to a poor family, having been genetically altered more than once, and having spent a good part of his life as a ruthless subhuman killer, Wolf was having just a tiny bit of trouble acclimating himself to a peaceful life of farming on the French countryside.

Thank heaven Scarlet was there to help him along.

And he was getting it! Sure, there had been a mishap or two or twelve or eighty-nine (he'd lost count by now), but he was learning. He'd learned lots of things.

He'd learned how to cook a few dishes. Mostly simple ones, but Scarlet didn't care much for fancy cooking, and neither did he- all those tastes at once were too confusing. The first time he'd successfully made an omelet, she'd kissed him and said she was proud.

He'd learned that the fragrant liquid in the fancy little bottles were not meant to be drunk. Apparently that stuff was called 'perfume' and neither Scarlet nor her grand-mere had ever used it much, so the bottles just stood there gathering dust and tasting awful. Why couldn't things be labeled?

He'd learned that small animals liked to prowl the vegetable garden. He'd spotted a small, furry white one out the window one night when he couldn't sleep, and was outside and had the thing clamped down in his jaws in under a minute. Scarlet had to be enlightened as to why there was a bloody rabbit corpse in the garden the next morning, and he'd felt rather ashamed of himself.

He'd learned how to talk to people without tensing up too badly and forgetting what it was to feel relaxed in the presence of those who weren't Scarlet or the Rampion crew. Smiling was difficult, and talking was uncomfortable, but he'd managed to order at an unknown restaurant all by himself with Scarlet holding his hand.

He'd learned how to pick flowers without crushing them, although he never quite got the hang of tying a ribbon, so he learned to stick them very carefully into a vase on the bedside table and then grin broadly at Scarlet's beaming face when she awoke to see them.

He learned to drink chocolat chaud with marshmallows and snuggle on the couch when the rain poured down. Scarlet would invariably fall asleep on him, and she was so perfect in slumber that he'd just look, and marvel at how perfect she was, until she would wake and yawn and mumble something about getting dinner started before going right back to sleep.

He'd learned about new clothes and books and dancing. He'd learned about not attacking people who looked at Scarlet for more than three seconds and music and funny stories. He'd learned about country fairs and lightning and getting enough sleep.

Yes, Wolf was definitely getting it.

He was learning!

And Scarlet was proud of him.