"Had I only the tongue of Liz'rd, this feast indeed would have made the wait worthwhile."
He pauses and grins, inwardly
"Well, I've grown plenty of imaginnation, so I'm certain it can work to my benefit this night. Thought shall replace those buds I would need to taste with... but hmm, what will it be I'll be tasting.."
Bones creeps up behind Cyren and lays, one by one, each digit of his skeletal fingers on her right shoulder. He talks in a loud deep reverberating voice as his eyesockets glow red
"Is it wise to keep this kind of company? Are you so certain the undead would be a welcome guest?"
Her response, or lack thereof seems a bit surprising to him. He steps back and tilts his head slightly, the fire in his eyes extinguishing, and his voice subduing
"A minion borne of evil brings no fear to your heart? Not even a goosebump, or a chill up your spine?"
Bones sighs, realizing he's lost something he once delighted in. Opponents' fear and the thrill of battle were once a single-minded pursuit of his..
Perhaps 'minded' is the wrong word though, as it was not a mind, but a will - one beyond his own. Another more stronger being than he had set Bone's actions in motion, reducing him to a tool in the hands of some puppet master. But all that had changed. Much.. had changed..
He turns and walks to find something to occupy his thoughts. An interesting object catches his attention on a table nearby, and he picks it up, turning it in his fingers. A long thin cylindrical cone carved in wood, a type of beast's horn..
"Hmm, peculiar. I've recently pondered the existence of a four legged creature with such an object protruding from its head." He turns to Cyren, holding the piece. "Why do you suppose that is? - I doubt such a creature would have a place in some swamp, or near a volcano.."
"Ahh, and speaking of creatures.. have u had the opportunity in your travels to spy any beasts roaming the hills? Peddling wares or laboring in the fields? Performing, perhaps?" He is hopeful in his query. "I've not seen my fellow minions in a while, and was curious as to their pursuits since times when there was once more of a market for them to make a living... though undead they may be."
He chuckles at the simple joke, no matter how small or unnoticed. It reminds him of his own previous vocations. Lost in thought, his gaze turns to the window.
"This would be a suitable time, I'd presume, for them to make an appearance - in one form or another. This time of year usually brings them scores of attention. Little ones, big ones, all types come to various locales to find pleasure in the scares found in facing so-called 'haunted' residences.
Myself, I would roam from house, to farm, to forest, making random appearances and keeping things.. erm, 'tidy'."
He looks over to Cyren, still apparently delighting in her food making. She seems a bit intrigued by his use of the word 'tidy' though
"No, not that I'd be sopping up the blood of dead corpses from wooden floors so much... erm, well, not so often that is.
Y'see, I try to manage them the best a former miscreant can. Some become devoted to the cause of peace and coexistence. Others.. stray.. But penalties are stiff for them, and certainly no defense is given if a 'hero' decides to enact revenge upon them."
He sighs "Not all understand that banishment and ostracizing, but it is a necessary 'evil', so to speak. haha.."
Bones grabs a chair, watching Cyren at work
"Ahh, but tell me. How is it you do not fret over the continued existence of our kind?"
He awaits her response, all the while twisting the wooden horn in his hands..