[ The comment she makes earns a mildly scathing glare. Nothing he cares to comment on further, so he just moves on. ]
Pardon me.
[ He tosses the lock of hair on the ground nearby where they could presumably start some sort of pile. For whatever kind of ritual this is supposed to be. ]
no subject
Pardon me.
[ He tosses the lock of hair on the ground nearby where they could presumably start some sort of pile. For whatever kind of ritual this is supposed to be. ]
This is mine. You may both find your own knives.