Kuval smiled, wider than he intended to, exposing the extra sharp ridges of teeth that sprouted occasionally from his otherwise human set. Four points stood out near the front, like doubled fangs of a blood sucker, lightly pink from the amounts of raw meat and blood he’d consumed over the years. He wasn’t quite sure what caused the smile. Either the compliment or the offering, neither of which he’d expected.

“Thank you,” he replied, but didn’t get up to retrieve the food just yet. Instead he watched how quickly and gracefully the man worked. It was astounding. So practiced. It made one wonder how many of these creatures he’d killed up to now. How frequently did he do this, to absorb their power?

As he relaxed there on the sand, he recapped the canteen and hooked it back onto his hip. It was getting darker still, the sun completely lost to the horizon now, and Kuval found himself grateful for his enhanced site. It made it incredibly easy to pick out little details a normal human wouldn’t have been able to see.

The witch spoke his name hesitantly, and Kuval took it in with just as much interest. Dorian. It was a beautiful name, he thought. Interesting. Not nearly as dark sounding as his actions would have led him to assume. It seemed almost opposite to him, like his own name that sounded so dark but meant so much light. He wondered what Dorian’s name meant, if it had been given a meaning before birth.

He looked up at the man as he stood and smiled again, looking at him. Those electric veins continued to glow and Kuval had the urge to touch them. Instead he shook his head, “I won’t take more than one… but I will take that one.”

Pushing up from the ground for a moment, he stepped through the blood to reach the mound of raw meat. The blood of the lost squished beneath his toes, the sensation something he’d never felt before. A pang of temporary sorrow ran through him before he picked up a piece from the mound and turned to face the witch again. One of his arms crossed under the other, leaving his hand up and the meat close enough to his lips and nose to smell as he continued.

“My name, Dorian, is Kuval,” he said, popping the piece into his mouth and savoring it. The sharp points of his teeth tore through it easily before he spoke again, “It’s very interesting meeting you.”

It was odd, hearing someone say his name. More so, it was odd to hear someone say his name without a curt undertone, or through gritted teeth. His athame moved smoothly through her tough skin, it was going cold quickly and that would make it harder if he wasn’t fast. “Interesting. I guess that’s a way to describe it.”

He spoke without looking at him, focusing on his work, which went by much quicker than with the pup since he was making up for unintentionally lost time. He wasn’t accustomed to conversing while he did these tasks, even if it was extremely minimal.

Kuval. The name didn’t fit him, not in his opinion. “Is that a chosen name or the one you were given?” Maybe it was just him, but the way it sounded led him to think of a much more…harsh individual. As strong and able as the now humanoid version of him was, he’d barely describe him as harsh.

This time when he finished gutting, deboning, and slicing up her edible parts, he took special care for her head. The jaws were set aside in an honorable fashion, almost crown like in the sand above the rest of her neatly placed pieces. They would have their own separate cleansing later.

When he finished, he moved to the eldest one and made fast work of him, speaking again, “Why are you still here?” It was almost an exasperated tone, but one that came naturally by this point in his life. Well, at least it was better than annoyance, though it was nearly laced in it. Time away from living within society left him less trusting of strangers.

More than that, it left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable, not that anyone would ever know that. However, the glow in his markings shifted: moving as if filled with a softly flowing current of water to outline each movement of light. “You have your legs, I’d think you’d want to be making good use of them.” He knew that had he the ability trade places with him and go below the depths indefinitely, that he might never come back up.

For a moment, Kuval stood calmly and watched. His intense eyes shifted as he focused on the man. There was much there, he could tell already. So much there under the surface that wasn’t shown. The creature wondered if the witch even knew what it was like to be around people, to have friends… but it wasn’t pity that kept him there. On the contrary, if he had to put a name to it the name would be greed.

He wanted to know everything and this man knew things he didn’t. So much more. The ocean from this side, magick, pain. Kuval wanted to understand it all, to take it all in. He wanted to know. With everything said, he decided to focus on the point he found easiest to keep them in conversation and left he rest there at the wayside. After all, he wasn’t one to be shooed by another’s frustrations, as often as that may have gotten him in trouble in the past.

“It was given to me by the Watchers,” he said, nodding, “They choose the names and decide what they think is best in the long run. They’re not always right, but I think they did well enough with mine. The logic behind it is interesting, at least.”

It was too much information. He felt it, in the pit of his stomach, like the rush of jumping from a cliff side into the water below. You don’t share information about the world beneath, not with anyone. He knew this and even that little bit of information felt like a betrayal.

Still, there was a pull to keep the conversation going that was maddeningly strong. He’d have to be extra careful. Harmless tidbits at most, he reminded himself. Harmless and useless. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was endanger the community that had raised him. Even if they didn’t love him the way he longed for, the way humans loved each other. The loyalty remained…

Just his eyes lifted up to him. Watchers. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were, but now his mind was working. Curiosity was never exactly a safe thing for him to have, much less if you were that target of curiosity. For all the time he’d kept the other one in the mirror, he’d never thought of her as an individual: simply another source of magick.

Hmm. He returned his focus downward, and set the pieces in proper order; wiping his athame off on the side of his pants when he was finished. He needed a good cleaning himself, but there would be quite time before he could do that. Still, the idea of tracking this much unnecessary blood into his home wasn’t appealing. It might bring flies. He hated flies.

He decided not to question any further about why he was staying around him, honestly this was the most sociable he could muster with anyone. No matter where they came from. Now that he knew he wandered the streets of Vilpamolan, he was sure he’d see him again. Though next time it might not be face to face. He’d keep an eye out for him.

Decide what they think is best. The words tumbled around in his head. That could mean so many things, but now wasn’t the time to press for information. Not when he had so much to finish for the night. What timing, any other night and he likely wouldn’t let him out of his sights, but he couldn’t afford that right now.

“Well,” he pushed up from the gore soaked sand and slid his athame safely into his belt loop, “you appear to be young yet. Let’s see how long you keep true to your name.” He returned to the adolescent and took up his violin and bow. There was much to do and the night seemed impossibly limited on time, “Do not touch anything.” His tone was quick but not harsh, and with it he walked back along the sands to his home to gather what he would need for storage.

Kuval raised his hands in submission to the command. Honestly, save the food, there wasn’t much in the area that he felt like touching. In fact, the squish between his toes had him longing to move back into the water. It was weird, up here. Somehow death felt more real. Everything… Everything stayed.

“I am young,” he said simply, watching after him with eyebrows raised, “Do you think there’s a better name for me?”

As the witch left, Kuval carefully moved himself back out of the tangle of bodies. Could they still be called bodies? Either way, he moved out of the circle and back into the cleaner sand, dragging the red with him unintentionally. Tonight was definitely a night he’d spend asleep under the waves. Not only did it feel cleaner right now, but it also seemed safer. This man definitely knew who, and what, he was now.

He moved back over to his staff and leaned upon it slightly, examining the now crusted bottoms of his feet. He could have put on the boots, but truth be told they seemed even harder to get used to than walking itself. They were still behind him somewhere, likely under the backpack he’d tucked away between the rocks. He’d have to wash first, at the very least, and the night was growing thicker. Through he’d grown up more nocturnal than anything, he’d nearly adapted to the cycle of the human world. He’d quickly learned how hard it could be to sleep through the sun.

Kuval looked at the mess before him and then in the direction the witch had left… There wasn’t much more that would be said tonight, despite his original desire to keep the conversation going. Perhaps he had been right about the man not having much in the way of social skills or friends. That was well enough… He had no doubt he’d see him again and when they did, maybe they could talk more.

It seemed tonight’s time may be up…. With a sigh, he finally turned and started to walk away. His focus needed to be on finding food and a place to sleep. Misu was surely not far… He’d find her. There was always safety when she was around.

As for the witch… Another day, he told himself. Another day.

Sand caked to the soles of his feet as he moved nimbly through his home. He tried to keep as light of footfalls as possible so as not to press the blood in more. When he had everything that he needed, he went back up his steps, finding that the man had gone. It hit him only as an observation and he continued his stride without hesitation. Next time he might put a track on him…No, no that was going a step too far. Or more, it was magick placed on impulse instead of thinking it through. But a person of the sea that had the ability to grow legs, that alone was more than enough to look into further.

He knelt next to the pup, moving its parts into their appropriate compartments, humming all the while as he did so. The salt in the storage tanks would help dry them out, keep them fresher for longer, but he knew many of these morsels would be dried out for a more crunchy consumption later. As he worked, he thought about all he was going to do when everything had been properly cleansed and bonded. His crystals were still buzzing with energy and he was considering opening another circle. This one, however, would be done in the safety of his home.

Though, with how brightly the moon was glowing tonight, it might be good to go star clad and continue his workings out in the opened. The push and pull of the tides, radiance of the moon, energy from her raw power, would seep directly into his skin. Hmm… He’d think it over. After everything was packed and ready to be moved, he looked at the bloody footprints in the sand. His own mingled with those of Kuval’s, and there was something invitingly eerie about how they faded with the sand. He knew it was merely because he’d walked away and the blood had run out in his tracks, but when something so small got his attention he usually took it as a sign.

Yes, he would be visiting the cards tonight. For now though, he gathered everything up, making three trips to get the tanks, bones, and skins all in his home. Once everything was arranged safely and had wards up to keep them protected, he pulled out his deck. It was worn and weathered from the brush of sand and salt, and many of the designs had blurred from so much exposure to water. They were perfect.

He shuffled them between his hands, feeling them charge even stronger as he did so, and when he felt that they were done well enough he held them aloft in his palm. Breathing out slowly, he cut it into three in the sand and moved his eyes slowly from each section to the next. Though he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull they had to the one on the far right, and it was from there that he pulled his card. His eyebrows furrowed, lips parting in light confusion.

Wine mixed with water and he wondered briefly if he’d meant to pull it inverted. No, that never happened and the thought was dashed near immediately. Still, he placed the card back and reshuffled, cutting the deck differently this time and then pulled once more. Again he saw the water and wine, unable to ignore its pour into the cauldron. Frustration was forming, and he mixed them once more, not even bothering to cut as he pulled from the top. Only now, he pulled to flip it backwards. Again the same illustration revealed itself: righted, despite how he’d tried to force an inversion. The winged angel seemed in peaceful thought, yet he took it as a smirk. None of it made sense, and rather than think on it for too longer, he pushed Temperance back into his deck and set himself back to work.