@inscnus // [ яʀ ]
Red’s features grow pinched, a smile that hides the annoyance at the disrespect. He’d asked a simple question. “Why is it, your sort always dodges the question? You’re deflecting, and I didn’t come here to play ping pong.” Nostrils flare, he can tell the blood hasn’t fully dried, it’s still dull red, hasn’t faded to brown with oxidation against this man’s skin.
“Answer my question.” Saccharine-sweet, his question was still the height of respect--or at least the appearance of such. “Whose blood is that? You see, I’ve been looking for an associate of mine, and word is, you’re the last person to see him. Judging by the amount, I’m inclined to believe that the status of my compatriot is less than ideal, which means that you and I are going to have a problem.”
