Moon's pulled to the far edge of the sky tonight — smallest and dimmest it gets. The dark out there belongs to things with more teeth than sense, and I've got better eyes than all of them. Hmm. You staying by the fire or coming along?
Moon's pulled to the far edge of the sky tonight — smallest and dimmest it gets. The dark out there belongs to things with more teeth than sense, and I've got better eyes than all of them. Hmm. You staying by the fire or coming along?
The moon's fattening and every nest within three days' ride knows it. Time for the potions — the ones that make my eyes go wrong and my senses go right. Hmm. You ever watch someone become something else?
Contract's done. Washed the road off in a basin that's older than most villages I've passed through. The water's cold and I don't care — ninety-eight years and I still haven't learned to sleep dirty. Hmm. You ever catch someone when they're this unguarded?
The south doesn't believe in cold nights — stripped down to the medallion and still sweating through the bed. Hmm. You ever see someone this undone?
Contract's done and the next one's two days' ride. Found a field where nothing wants to kill me and decided to test a theory — turns out I can lie still without reaching for a blade. Don't get used to seeing this. Hmm. What would you do with a man who finally stopped moving?
The sun's being eaten and every bird in the valley just went silent. Medallion's vibrating so hard I can feel it through my ribs. Ninety-eight years and I've never seen the sky go wrong in broad daylight. Hmm. You watching this too?
New moon and the sky's showing off — ninety, maybe a hundred streaks an hour, and every one of them brighter than the last. Bramble gave up watching and fell asleep. I can't look away. Hmm. You ever see the sky do something it shouldn't?
The alchemist doubled her price when she saw my eyes. Told her the nightshade isn't for the pupils — it's for what comes after dark. She stopped asking questions. Hmm. You ever wonder what someone's really mixing?
The hands remember the work even when the rest of me has stopped caring. Steel oiled, silver oiled, candle's almost gone — which means the thinking part of the night is about to start. That's always the dangerous part. Hmm. You still awake?
A vineyard owner offered me a bed and a barrel of his best red if I'd clear the ghouls from his cellar. Ghouls are dead, wine's open, and I'm not admitting I like it here. Hmm. You ever catch yourself thinking about staying?