#'ah yes here is the rare variant human with retractable fangs and a taste for hemoglobin'

[ithuriel]

𖤍 Contradictions do not delight him as paradoxes do. The latter, at least, hides kernels of truth in seemingly nonsense statements: less is more, change is constant, expect the unexpected, et al. The former only highlights failures in logic, or some sort of hidden flaw: for example, the scent of blood he's sure he's picking up in the air even though he sees none within sight.

It's also broad daylight—hardly a time for unfortunate murders—yet something prickles at the edge of Aurelius' senses just the same. Eyes skim curiously through the crowds before zeroing in on one rare, well-dressed soul passing close by.

If conversation was inevitable, at least let his partner be someone with taste. The angel weaves through the mob, careful to avoid touching most people in the process, and somehow ends up following his target to a more secluded corner between two buildings.

"Excuse me." Aurelius closes the final distance himself, using his taller frame to form a temporary buffer against the noisy plaza behind them. It occurs to him then that he has no idea how to phrase his question. Eyebrows furrowing, he decides to simply spit it out.

"I'm wondering whether you've noticed any suspicious occurrences in this square."

@fangsanddaggers ໒꒱