Evren curled into himself at the base of the tree, clutching his wounded hand to his chest. He hissed in pain but hearing German caught his attention, and he directed his curious gaze back to Aava and listened intently to her.
A bit perplexed, he nodded in response to her first statement. He was fairly sure that some magic was at play, or he perhaps he was having an auditory hallucination and this ‘Aava’ hadn’t actually said a word of German; it was just nice to have company. [color=cc3300]“It’s my burden to wander, as it’s yours to be confined to this lake. We’re more alike than you think; voracious demons, doomed to kill innocents until Judgement so we can suffer damnation ever after.”[/color] Evren pulled his hand away from his side to inspect his wound again. It had healed considerably, practically stitching itself together before his eyes. Traces of blood remained against his skin. It was an inky crimson, not bright and viscous like that of a mortal, leaving maroon snail-slime trails on his arm. [color=cc3300]“Plenty of that in Norse land, evils and old magicks, but I suppose a witch like you would already know that.”[/color]