[Ah. He cocks his head -- seemingly eyeless -- picking up up half of the pisaca corpse.
He'd grown so accustomed to being around people who knew him that he'd forgotten what it's like to find his shape indistinguishable from foe. He throws half the pisaca at one of the small thorn creatures scurrying at the edges, the corpse landing on it with a wet thunk, before speaking with what would be a calm voice, if it weren't accompanied by a guttural, animalistic growl.]
no subject
He'd grown so accustomed to being around people who knew him that he'd forgotten what it's like to find his shape indistinguishable from foe. He throws half the pisaca at one of the small thorn creatures scurrying at the edges, the corpse landing on it with a wet thunk, before speaking with what would be a calm voice, if it weren't accompanied by a guttural, animalistic growl.]
I am not your enemy.