vilisumbra has found himself in the desert
“I am the childish one?” Dark both sounded and looked incredulous, skeptical, disbelieving—the works. He regarded the Poe - whether he had to turn to do so or not - with a pair of arched brows and an expression that eventually settled into something unimpressed. “You are the one who tossed the first slight, forgetful ghost. Whether or not your statement rings true, you really are scatter-minded.” Raising a hand, the shade scratched at a cheek, idle and thoughtful. “I would say your statement is false, however,” he mused, eyes half-lidded with mild smugness. “You failed to stay alive… How many souls? How many times?” Clearly the growling hadn’t phased him.
The shadow was right. Cadmus was becoming more and more scatter-brained as the conversation dragged on. All things considered, he wasn't used to talking to people, and even less familiar with the fourth-grade art of name-calling.
But the shadow had just stepped on Cadmus' toes, so to speak. How he had died was a touchy subject, particularly the small details, and the aftermath thereof. Of course, being made of many souls, he had many memories of death, but one in particular was strongest in his memory. It was indeed his greatest failure, and Cadmus did not like to fail.
"All humans will eventually meet their end," he said rather defensively. "The only thing I failed to do was give up." He had given up something after death, but he was not about to look into that dark corner, especially not with the shadowy individual around.
