The body that dragged itself onto the shady lakeshore to vomit water looked more like a well-preserved cadaver than a living being. Evren’s freckled complexion replaced by shriveled and pock-marked skin the color and texture of pallid leather. He had a few patches of coarse white hair on his head but he was mostly bald, with a scraggly unkempt beard and wild eyebrows. His clothes hung off of his malnourished frame, wet and clinging to his very bony torso. A gnarled hand clutched his wounded wrist, blood seeping between his fingers as the hollow-eyed creature winced in pain and sucked in a breath between stained fangs. Icy black eyes opened and stared death into Aava. [color=cc3300]”(You witch! How stupid are you?! Can’t you sense your own?)”[/color]
Evren stopped himself; he’d been shouting in German, and realized that wouldn’t get him anywhere. This water wench couldn’t eat him and he couldn’t eat her, even if he’d wanted to, so he settled on recalling some of his victims' words to try and make some sense to her. [color=cc3300]”[i]Tämä hirviö! Veren juomari, verenimijä![/i]"[/color] He gritted his teeth to snarl at her and continued as best he could in Swedish. [color=cc3300]"(But you've done what they couldn't, broken my mask and revealed this wretched monster to the daylight. I hope you're proud of yourself.)"[/color] He wasn't making a lot of sense, but his anger and panic were plain across his weathered face.