" Choosing solitude once again, monsieur? Perhaps a heart of stone does not melt into flesh so easily. "

Come, mon amour, do not mind their squabble. Keep your focus on me; I shall be here until you fall asleep.

It's clear we are cut from different cloth, yet you would still attempt to reduce me to your level. Simply put, perhaps I am merely further evolved than you. I'd argue such is obvious from a cursory glance.

Are you so dull as to not comprehend my words? I'm stating you're the pinnacle of a human that has not evolved for the last hundred thousand years.

You are certainly proof of such a fact.

// id tell you, but then youd have to read this 1200+ page french novel

opened his lips, out poured words in perfect English, mellifluent as though he were some seducing demon, speaking words that he had spoken his entire life.

" 'Tis quite the faux-pas to intrude upon another's quarry. Have you no code of honor, o jester? "

its length is almost desaturated, devoid of its inherent colour. To trace its path in reverse would be to see its originator: a man who had not existed in the space behind just moments before. Silvers and violets adorned this creature, as if he held some form of status in the beyond from whence--

With the unwelcome intrusion of another, the shade seemingly vanishes. Yet, the chill seems only to increase as the shadows around the two shift, dancing and playing in shapes that the mind could only perceive as faces. Perhaps the trail of blood which follows them both has led the deceased--

for the two to finally occupy the same space. For it knew that once the moment arrived, a frightening truth would manifest from the shadows it knew as home.

wicked form of entertainment.

Perhaps the dusk was taking its toll on the eyes of the traveler, for a different haze seemed to form some distance down the road. It had no distinctive shape, yet its presence alone seemed to threaten to freeze the man's blood within his veins, chilling as if--

comforting heat they sap the warmth from all they connect with; a tragic craving which kept the man in a constant chill. Yet the cold and the shadows seemed omnipresent, no matter where the road took him, their cruelty his constant companion. They had no destination, merely tagging along for a--

"You are not as entertaining as you believe yourself to be."

" Seems I am still unused to this land and its myriad mysteries. Pray tell, what manner of unholy malaise could create such a beast? "

" . . . You have my gratitude, monsieur. I would not desire to meet my end in such an undignified fashion. "