It was true that many called to him for a act, anything to make them forget their life. That stopped long ago when he was gifted the khanjar dagger. Most tend to avoid him now, though children, the ones untainted by the corruption. Like felines filled with curiosity, they flock to him. They are tolerable. This was not the voice of a child, There was no innocence, no childlike glee in the words. And that alone halts him. Who was the fool to call out to him. Turning to gaze upon the speaker. Lips contorted to form a single word. "Evet?"