[ His head cocks, almost bird-like. But he does come to a halt. ]
Smells of...iron and ink. Smells like fear. But not blood this time, no. Not his, not theirs.
[ The wet splatter on the stones lingered, a delightful memory. A fate he'd gladly visit on every Venatori he could lay his -- Lucanis's -- hands on. Perhaps the one thing he and his host truly agreed upon. ]
no subject
Smells of...iron and ink. Smells like fear. But not blood this time, no. Not his, not theirs.
[ The wet splatter on the stones lingered, a delightful memory. A fate he'd gladly visit on every Venatori he could lay his -- Lucanis's -- hands on. Perhaps the one thing he and his host truly agreed upon. ]