[color=cc3300]"[i]Minun minun minun![/i] (Is that all you know, demon?)"[/color] Evren taunted as he backed himself up to a tree. He looked at the cut on his arm; it was already starting to heal, but he couldn't change form again until it did. He could only blame himself, provoking some unknown creature in its element was, well, stupid of him.
Fleeing Bavaria was lonely business. It was hard to adjust to the isolating wilderness of this world after spending so many years in the states of Holy Rome, even if he was picking up on the new languages somewhat quickly. The villages were so tiny and insular, with no place for an outsider like himself. He had no idea how he would feed without rousing suspicion among whole populations. He groaned and closed his eyes, sinking to the ground and dragging his yellowish talons across the dirt, pulling up blades of grass while he listened to the water devil ask more and more probing questions that he could hardly understand.

[indent][color=teal][i]Kylmä liha.[/i][/color]
[color=cc3300][i]Cold meat.[/i][/color][/indent]
He understood that; he'd heard it in the village where he met the sailors. He sat up to respond, unflinchingly meeting her gaze. [color=cc3300]"[i]Kylmä liha, kylmä verta. Vampyyri.[/i]"[/color] Evren pointed to his wound and then to himself.