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β β β β β ββββ πΚα΄β πΊπ―π¨π«πΆπΎπΊ
β β β β β β β β β β β β Ι’Κα΄α΄‘β πα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ.
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"If you ask me that question, darling, I can give you any number of answers you may want."
It's Death's nature to be malleable, after all, to fit into whatever idea mortality has ascribed to it.
"A friend, an enemy, an acquaintance, a curse, a pain in your backside. The most β
β tell me when you do . β
not able to hold a smile , one eye peeks open at them , a fast look before closing it again . focusing , he flickered into his ghost realm .
β well , thereβs the difference , is it not ? β
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"I'm only trying to understand."
They sit down beside the gravestone, resting their head where the name is engraved.
"Hmm. Most of my companions would readily take lives and present them to meβand they are beautiful in that way. I understand them and their hunger. But you're β
"You don't want another person to kill their sibling anymore? Oh, Camilo. I can tell you it happens a lot more often than you think."
They keep walking while the other stops, skipping effortlessly over a rock in the road, until they come to rest over a headstone.
"Most would β
Guilt and grief and the delectable anguish of manβhis tongue briefly pokes between his lips, as if tasting the air, that taunting hunger pulling at his being again.
"So you think you can make it up to her? Through other children?"
That small taste alone is enough to leave β
They sigh in mild disappointment, tilting their head to the side and giving the other a nod.
"Don't stop at the details, go on."
Now they're talking.
Briefly pressing a hand to Camilo's shoulder, they're now walking backward to better study the other.
"Why children?"