
I would not be keen to raise the dead in this accursed land,his mind flickered back to the bog monster he'd seen, the rabid waters that turned animals feral. So many instances in this troubled land reminded him much of his home, yet there was a darkness he could not quite place.
The burning of his flesh finally became unbearable, his body climbing from its hole until the fires of his eyes met her own blazing amythest. Greivous found himself pausing, mentally of course, as physically he looked as disinterested as ever in something living, compared to something dead.
She smelled divine. The smoky notes that brought out the rot really tingled in his nose. It was a musk that enticed him; Excited him. For a moment, he did not feel she would judge him for his peculiar palette.
I plan to bury her. Slowly, she'll ripen with rot, and only then will I unmask her for a taste.His voice was low, but behind his hauntingly still expression lay a passion, one that danced in his eyes as he lifted them from donor to the new, gemstone-eyed doe.