Dennis didn't have to hardly work on Rosie at all. The woman had to be senile - so trusting and friendly to him. Not that he was complaining, although the mention of Jander did frustrate him somewhat. He continued to hold her hand, opening his eyes and looking up at her pitifully.
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "The woman who runs the werewolf clinic helped out a bit, but I can't... I shouldn't rely on her. But some days... It's not enough. I get so cold, and I have to go looking for more with the rats and the cats and the dogs."
"I just need a friend, Rosie. Somehow who can help me remember what I was." That was the key point of being a 'victim' - wanting things to go back the way they were. "I didn't want to die, Rosie, and now, it's all so different, but I'm still me." Dennis clung to her arm, seeking the warmth of her skin and the soothing thump of her heart beating in her chest.
"I just want to feel... human again, Rosie. Just for one night."