(o) Silver Tongue, Pearl Teeth

Always running his mouth, yeah he's got a few scars

Something he'd said had struck a nerve, it seemed, judging by the way the young man stopped retreating, looked at him with a glint in his eye. Nate all but huffed, and took a step forward, closing the distance between them, trying to get back some of the sense of control that the other's anxieties have given him. "A long ways away." The words were repeated almost mockingly, Nate rolling his shoulders. "Things are different here, aren't they? No matter where you come from." Nate huffed, then leaned in again, head tilting to the side as he did. God knew this was a far sight from the place he'd come from, was a far sight from even the Grounds. The sooner one accepted that though, the better they seemed to do.

"Shit, you really are new new." A hand came up to rub at his eyes, no fear of letting the other man out of his sight for those few brief moments. It was unnatural, how quickly Nate's demeanour seemed to shift from hostile to just tired, though it was really just his shoulders slumping. "Ascended is... the fangs, and the no breath. Not dead, but I sure as hell can't fucking enjoy living." And just like that, the anger is back, though it's not longer aimed at the stranger, for all the difference it really makes. He almost utters the word vampire, just to see if the man knows something similar to the idea, but it feels wrong to apply the word to himself, when it wasn't quite right.

NATE