Today, the girl was going to meet a creature probably not unlike the one that had killed her parents; however, as a cannibal he would have eaten them unless they had been an assassination target. Because it wasn't good etiquette to make meals out of the end result of a job. Unprofessional, some might say. He may make an exception for a personal matter if there were previous entanglements -- he'd eat Fantome just so he could, and then say he had shit the male out (and nail the wings to some trophy wall) -- but that would be too rare an occurance, because Quinn wouldn't feel that personally about most. At this point in his life, Quinn didn't have too many scores to settle. That may not apply to others about him, though. He had lived recklessly, and that had it's pitfalls.

He doesn't know what it means for him here, though he wasn't that concerned about it. He would carve out a spot for himself in one way or another, with time. Quinn still wasn't sure what sort of spot he would even want here. This sort of world made him restless, and he was grounded now only on account of Vhetiveer. If anyone could try to keep him in line, it would be Vhet. It remained to be seen if that was Vhetiveer's prerogative or not. Not today, since he was off on his own for the moment. He had no nefarious plans for the day, save for finding something to eat later on. Some small animal with warm blood, perhaps. Lips concealed the unusally sharp teeth that assisted his more carnivore dietary habits, and his mind was on figuring out where he had ended up, now that the scents of this land had begun to cling to his pelt.

It marked him as one of them, and he was grudgingly accepting that this was something that would label him. Didn't mean he would follow whatever leader had set up shop here, of course not. But he would think twice about hunting here. Instead, Quinn is more interested in learning the lay of the land, and spent most of the day wandering around to get a feel for the place. Map it all out in his mind. Pink blossoms had him wandering the hills, thinking of past things in hues of pink. Nothing he should be thinking about now, however. He noted the presence of someone else on one of the hilltops, keen gaze catching the damp marks on her face, the slight saline scent of tears settling in his nasal passage. Quinn moves closer, drawn by those tears. "Why do you cry?" His voice was oily smooth, his expression riddled with quiet curiousity.

I'M READY TO BLEED TO MAKE AMENDS
*tarquin