Roma was once again walking through the woods on the east side of the mountain. It seemed like this eerie wood was quickly becoming a favorite haunt of hers and Roma didn't mind that one bit. Oak Tree Bend was home to her nephew and to the one person who she might call her best friend. Thoughts of the kind Healer she had met swam through her mind and brought a pleasant smile to her lips.

A smile that quickly disappeared when she heard the agonizing howl of her friend.

Roma's long powerful legs carried her as quickly as she could to the source of all the noise. Each howl that pierced the stagnant air had Roma's silvery guard hairs standing on edge and her muscles pushing her faster and faster through the trees until finally she came across the shocking scene. Oliver was ramming his head into the side of the mountain and the sickening sound of bone hitting stone made Roma cringe. The large gray woman hastily darted forward, planning to shove her body between Oliver's and the mountain, but before she got there he spun around. Whirling until he was nose to nose with her, he yelled "STAY OUT!" as his brown eyes welled up with tears.

Any other wolf might have taken a step back, and Roma might have taken a step back had she been dealing with any other wolf. But this was Oliver and he had been kind to her, even when they were still strangers. Her instincts told her that he was good and good wolves deserved to be helped. "Oliver..." Roma's voice was soft, gentle and sympathetic. Her icy blue eyes were filled with concern as she rubbed her cheek against his, just to let him know that she was here. Then, and only then, did she take a step back and give the raven colored man some space. "Oliver...What happened?" She asked, feeling his distress, a mix of confusion and loathing and rage, falling away from him in waves.

Andromache Moon had spent years running from her past and because of that she had seen a lot of the world and of the other wolves in it. She wasn't unobservant, either, so the silver haired woman had paid attention to the wolves around her as she travelled. By now, she was a bit of a Weltanshaunng and though cases like Oliver's were rare, she had seen it before. She had heard of it a few times and seen it for herself once: a wolf whose brain, or soul, or heart or whatever made them tick just...broke. But as Oliver murmured her name and cracked a smile, slipping on a mask of normalcy, as blood dripped down his forehead, Roma knew that no matter how many times you saw something like this happen it would always set your guard hairs on edge.

Roma watched as Oliver tried to ask a question about Athena, but she could tell by the way his legs were shaking that the question was only a cover, a feeble attempt to hide the inner turmoil. Then, in a polite, almost natural tone, he excused himself and attempted to once again bash his skull into the rock. Roma couldn't bear to hear that noise again. Following through with her original intent, she rushed her body between Oliver's small raven colored body and the mountain. As she did she let her shoulder brush against his chest and turned her face to allow her bright blue eyes to make contact with his brown gaze. Gently, almost in a whisper, she said, "Oliver I don't know what happened but this is not the answer. It won't solve anything. Whatever's going on, you need to talk about it." Taking on a stronger tone to convey her sincerity she continued, "I promise you that no matter what you tell me we will always be friends. Whatever happened, however you feel right now, I will understand." Expression once again becoming soft, her voice, pleading: "Oliver, please just talk to me. Don't you trust me?" She prayed to the gods that he did because if he didn't she would have to restrain him somehow and that was not how she wanted this situation to go.

Roma listened quietly as her heart crumbled to pieces. Oh Oliver, Roma thought sadly. His raven colored jaw was fiercely quaking as tears ran down his eyes, mixing with the blood before they fell to the ground. He was barely holding himself together and Roma wanted to cry her self. But that wouldn't help anyone so the large storm colored wolf kept herself together, solid and firm like the ground beneath her feet. Oliver begged her to move, but she remained still, resolute in her intents to keep him safe from himself.

He snarled and Roma wanted to flinch, but she resisted. "Please!.....Before he tells me to kill you too....." The words stung for a moment, as if her heart didn't hurt enough just seeing him in pain...now a part of him was angry with her when all she was trying to do was protect him. But that sting lasted only for a moment. Oliver needed her now. Her feelings, any pain that she felt, had to be put aside for now. Voice more firm than kind, the large wolf raised herself to full posture and said, "No" plain and simple. She kept her eyes trained on his. She would not move. She would not let him hurt himself.

A moment of silence passed between them as she allowed that one word to sink in and resonate within him. Then kindness returned to her deep, rich voice as she added, "Oliver you won't kill me. I know that so Im not going to move. Now I don't know who is telling you to kill people, but the decision is yours. If you don't want to do it, then don't." Those last two words came out in a more pleading tone then Roma intended, but she meant what she said. She trusted her instincts when they told her that Oliver would not hurt her. But right now...she could not be so sure he wouldn't hurt someone else. Roma hated the thought of him killing someone in a state like this. She couldn't let him do it, not if he would regret it the moment he regathered his senses. "Oliver, if you are going to kill someone let it be your choice. Don't do it because someone else is telling you to. Be true to yourself and I will stand by your decisions." Her words were true: if Oliver, in his right senses, told her he was going to go kill someone, Roma would trust that the someone deserved it and she would stand by Oliver's decision. She trusted him. On the other hand, Roma hardly expected that Oliver would choose to kill anyone. He was too kind for that and that was part of the reason she had cared about him so much, so quickly. "You are a good man, a kind man and you may not see that right now, but I do. You wouldn't kill someone unless you absolutely had to." However, killing--for justified purposes--was not against her own moral code and if she ever figured out who the hell did this to her friend, that wolf would be on her hit list from here on out. And as soon as she could get Oliver to calm down she planned on figuring out exactly who was at the root of this pain that her friend was going through.

Roma watched in amazement as her words sank in. She could see the internal conflict, the back and forth arguing, going on behind Oliver's big brown eyes and it broke her heart. The way he was shouting now and talking as if...as if he were talking to someone besides her. The very idea of a monster in Oliver's head made Roma shudder. How was she going to help him when she couldn't even hear the other side of the argument? She could only hear what Oliver was saying, but not what he was hearing. Her grey brows pulled together as her icy eyes swirled with confusion and concern. How could she fix this?

Then he was hurting himself again, scratching at his own ears as if he could deafen himself to stop the voices. But the voices he was hearing were in his head, not in his ears. There was no way to get to them physically. In order to help him, Roma knew that she had to figure out exactly who he was hearing and why. It was the only way to help him work towards getting rid of the voices. She was just about to intervene, to make him stop scratching himself, when his small frame just collapsed. His body sank to the ground and his nose buried itself in the dirt and he offered up one last comeback to whoever it was he was arguing with "You are gone. You're dead, and I've been on my own. Stop telling me what to do..."

Roma allowed her own body to slowly sink to the floor, until she was eye level with her raven colored friend. You tell him Oli, she cheered on in her mind and let a soft smile gracefully curl her lips. "Oli, who's dead? Who is it that is trying to tell you what to do?" Roma's eyes met his with an imploring intensity, as if she could will the words out of him. Her tone was gentle and she had even used a nickname in hopes of providing some sense of comfort and reassurance, but the question was heavy. Would he share this story with her? Would he let her in so she could help? Roma held her breath as she waited for him to respond, hoping that he would not shut her out now.