Hati has been out of his element the moment he went from four legs to two, from wolf spirit to human shape, from the sky to the earth and from pages of the Edda to solid form. Adaptation is not only something that keeps him alive, but keeps things interesting. Living amongst humans as a wolf in a man's skin is more... engaging, if only to his senses that still caused part of him to live with some semblance of primal instinct.
Like now.
She thinks he understands. He thinks he might. She speaks earnestly with him, and for that he listens. He looks from her, over the bridge, to the water.
He is up on the railing before Hecate finishes speaking, before he even realizes what he is doing. There might be some sort of smile on his face, but it might also be the shadows making something appear that is not actually there. Creature of the night, like Hecate, but something else, too. In tandem with his brother, they once saw to it the sun set and the moon rose, and the cycle began over, and over, and over, until they caught their chase, until the sky ran red with the heavens' blood. Perhaps this human shape has allowed him more freedom, in a way.
And freedom can be a dangerous thing, for a monster and a wolf now a man.
He reaches, and his fingers on her thin shoulders. She is feather-light, and he lifts her, they are precariously perched some 30 feet above the water. He looks at her, hands still on her shoulders.
He will not let her fall.
Yet.
"Understand? As Managarm, no, and yes. Once, no. But now, now... maybe." He has become a little abstract, perhaps it is the dawn hours sneaking up on him. He often wavers between clarity and ambiguity in speaking.