The ridges above his misty eyes raise again at the compliment. True to the elf's observation, he says nothing in return, but tilts his head to the side and shrugs with a half smile.
His brow does quirk as the eccentric elf skips out of what some might consider a traumatic experience, but doesn't otherwise motion to stop the man. He keeps his front to the elf on his way through the shop, then rolls a shiver down his spine when he's alone. His whole body convulses and his claws roll together as his gaze is drawn to the fresh body, bones still warm while wrapped in their flesh casing.
With eyes twitching and his lips curling to bare his terrible teeth, he descends on the corpse with all his restraint depleted, and tears through with gnashing jaws and clenching claws.
When he's done, he rises from the mess of blood and scraps of fabric that didn't get swallowed and exhales deeply while he catches his breath. Steadily, his blood lust withdraws, and he swallows some of the remaining copper on his palette with a gasp. A trembling claw clenches, and the blood that soaks his clothes, the gaps in the tiles, and any of the woodwork is pulled from its resting place, and guided between his lips in a long tendril, which he eagerly drinks and snaps his jaws around.
Temporarily satisfied, he wobbles to where the mage had spilled his ashes, takes a knee, and extends his shaky claws. He pauses, then retrieves a scrap of Amond's clothes, completely clean of gore, and uses that to scoop up some of the substance, utterly matting the fabric with the material born of Degare's lungs.
With a nod, he folds and pockets the makeshift poultice, retrieves his mask, reclaims the warped key, swallows it, then exits the store. Next stop: Amoren.
His brow does quirk as the eccentric elf skips out of what some might consider a traumatic experience, but doesn't otherwise motion to stop the man. He keeps his front to the elf on his way through the shop, then rolls a shiver down his spine when he's alone. His whole body convulses and his claws roll together as his gaze is drawn to the fresh body, bones still warm while wrapped in their flesh casing.
With eyes twitching and his lips curling to bare his terrible teeth, he descends on the corpse with all his restraint depleted, and tears through with gnashing jaws and clenching claws.
When he's done, he rises from the mess of blood and scraps of fabric that didn't get swallowed and exhales deeply while he catches his breath. Steadily, his blood lust withdraws, and he swallows some of the remaining copper on his palette with a gasp. A trembling claw clenches, and the blood that soaks his clothes, the gaps in the tiles, and any of the woodwork is pulled from its resting place, and guided between his lips in a long tendril, which he eagerly drinks and snaps his jaws around.
Temporarily satisfied, he wobbles to where the mage had spilled his ashes, takes a knee, and extends his shaky claws. He pauses, then retrieves a scrap of Amond's clothes, completely clean of gore, and uses that to scoop up some of the substance, utterly matting the fabric with the material born of Degare's lungs.
With a nod, he folds and pockets the makeshift poultice, retrieves his mask, reclaims the warped key, swallows it, then exits the store. Next stop: Amoren.
