It sounded like a reasonable enough request, though Janie was not certain what the subtle shift in his tone was. Perhaps he was answering her own resolve to get through with this. Well. Some men responded better to directness and poise than to vulnerability and tears. If Hannibal was that sort of man, that told her what sort of woman she must be with him to get what she needed, didn't it?
She collected herself, and kept her voice carefully even when she began to explain, despite whatever she felt to the contrary. If I give him this, he will reward my trust and cooperation. "I am usually very well put together, sir. A few days before the full moon, I feel my patience and composure begin to steadily unravel. It's like a thread, but instead of cutting it how you ought to do, it gets pulled. Eventually, the weave of the thread is thin enough that it cannot contain my tiger any longer. My temper becomes shorter, my senses become so intense that I can hardly bear them, and my self-control begins to unspool. I am not a violent person by any means, but the closer I get to the full moon... The more likely I am to lash out in such a way. And when I am completely overtaken by my tiger, I am no longer myself anymore. I more or less black out until my shift reverts. I don't remember what has happened afterwards. Then it takes another day or so in order for me to fully recover myself."