cost you to keep me quiet
Weak mortals they were, chasing fables spilled from the mouth of a child. And Vince was just as gullible. He had no idea what power the relic might possess, though he surmised that even the slightest possibility of granting him immortality was well worth shuffling around the island for. What better gift from the God of Time? If there was anything Vince so desired to possess, it was just that. Another trump card to play at his leisure, tucked tightly away with all his other secret ploys to escape a death he most certainly knew he deserved. Dying was a rather unpleasant experience, as he recalled, and he wasn’t very fond of doing it again.
His aging, disabled body was only a reminder of that inevitability. He became more aware of it now. The taste of blood on his tongue that never ceased, yet never drained him. Mutilated ears that couldn’t twist or turn to hear his surroundings no matter how hard he willed them to. This was the perpetual state of his existence, a cumbersome body his own overgrown pride could barely mask the loathing for. He did not walk, no the beast shuffled through the forest, overgrown and mangled with vines where eager hooves had not yet touched it. His own blood red ones snapped branches and smothered leaves, dragging up the dirt where his disfigured foreleg merely tagged along as dead weight. Stealth was certainly not his asset any longer, but he could admit that he had plenty of charms to make up for it.
Of course…none came to mind that very moment, but they were there—he could assure you.
Ooc // Vince is much more amusing when he has company.
