"So you do. Well done."

It's remarkable, how acutely something dead can feel. No matter how deceptively calm he looks, there is something inside that rumbles approval, that ever hungers. Perhaps not for blood, in the moment.

Still. Giving in to the beast is not always the wisest course. Locus tips his head back with a hum, surveying York for a moment. Reading him.

"Perhaps you should be rewarded."