In a way we all are—aren’t we? From the sea I was reborn. Perhaps in ways you could only imagine.
I do not let her see it, but the words strike me like flint to steel. The words spark my soul; they speak to me like a dying breath, like the squelching of a blade between wet ribs. Outwardly, a smile flits, butterfly soft and bird quick, across my face.
“I suppose, in one way or another, we are all made.” His Maker had never been a water-horse. His Maker had been war; his fondest teacher, Betrayal. Those things had twisted him; gnarled the once-straight, hotly forged steel of his soul.
Reborn she says, but he cannot help but wonder what must have happened to make her want that. Vercingtorix, with all his self control, cannot keep his eyes from glancing toward the shark’s corpse.
It is at such odds with her supernatural, strange beauty. The grotesqueness of the kill; the call of the sea. She is sharp, and wicked, and he loves her even as he detests her.
“Some of them,” Vercingtorix admits, with a supple shrug of his shoulders. “But I’ve found… well, in a way we all are monsters, aren’t we?” It is as far as his philosophy stretches; as far as he will go to admit that he might not be so different from the things he hunts.
He begins to break away, however. With a respectful nod he says, “Perhaps we’ll meet one another again.” But does not elude to what that meeting would entail. “Enjoy your meal.”
“speech” || @Lucinda
