When Wormwood thought of things that enchanted him, one of the first things that came to mind were stories. The guardsman had loved stories ever since he had been young, and they had always been a sort of catharsis when he was having a bad day, even when he had been a cub and he had to actively search people put to tell him stories, since he couldn't yet read. The reason why Worm needed his  catharsis right now was because... well, things had been going pretty damn far from well as of late, and Worm desperately needed to distract himself from things. He was such a tightly wound ball of emotions that he felt like he was a ball of rubber bands, about to snap and lash out at someone else. So, instead of doing anything of the sort, he had decided to try and enchant the rest of the group, and offer them all a welcome distraction from the aches of the real world that they were facing pretty damn often these days. He sort of wished that Roy could be around to relax and listen, but he knew that was essentially false hope at this point. He had already tried to go and get the boy on his own, and that had just ended up with Roy lashing out at him and not showing the faintest sign of recognition. It still hurt whenever he thought about it, but ultimately he knew the only thing that he could do right now was wait until they all raided the Pitt, and hopefully Roy would come back with them. His claws dug into the earth beneath him as he thought about it, his ears pinning down against his skull, before he took a deep inhale in and let it out, his entire body shaking as he forced himself to relax. This was supposed to be a nice little get together, and Roy wouldn't want him beating himself up over his capture so much anyways, even though Worm felt it was right.

Pawing at the storybooks that surrounded him, Worm winced just a but at the ache that spread through his limbs, reminding him of all the work he had done as of late. Yet another thing he did when things weren't going well was work. It felt easier to use actions to express himself, rather than any sort of words. He had been working himself to the bone, making it so that everybody else could take some much needed time for themselves. The only exception was the medics, since he knew that if he tried to do the job of a sawbone, there was the threat of him fucking up and killing somebody. He would rather just leave that in the capable paws of Selby and Moth, even if he did think that Selby should get some more rest. The angel let out a grunt as he slowly rolled his shoulders, wondering if perhaps at some point he should talk to Moth about what he could do about his aches and pains... that was something for another time, though. Instead, the guardsman cleared his throat and rumbled loudly from where he was sat in front of his house, his tail curled forward around one of his front legs, "If... If anybody wants to just relax and listen to a story for a bit, then come over here. I'm gonna be reading to everybody. I know it's a little but childish, but..." His eyes darkened just the slightest bit, and for a brief moment he looked so tired, "...I think we all deserve to just be a little bit childish right now, right? I've got some of the classics, and they always made me happy as a cub." It was all he had to offer that was comparable to what Feza often did, although on a lesser scale. He was usually much better at things that involved logistics more than anything else, but he could try this. Something emotional, and soft, and enchanting.