Mordecai Letto
"You're small for someone twice my age," he snarled. Petty, he knew, but the best he could come up with. Maybe he ought to have been more frightened, the way she'd approached without making much noise was all the more reason to think she really was a ghost. Besides, even if she wasn't, he still couldn't be sure that she wasn't cursed with some curious malady.
Yet he couldn't really feel threatened by someone who seemed more interested in a measuring contest than prying into his personal affairs. Maybe she hadn't seen what he'd been up to after all, maybe there was still a way he could talk himself out of this. A quick downward glance told him she carried no weapons, no obvious ones at least, or perhaps she had left them somewhere else.
His shoulders dropped just a little and his expression softened, but he kept his arms crossed in front of his chest. "People get hung here," he shrugged. "Or they vanish, get lost in the fog, maybe get eaten by some wild animal." A faint grin split his lips at the end of that. "Not really a suitable place for a dainty girl," he mocked.
He spotted a flash of annoyance on her face, or perhaps it was disappointment. He squinted. It wasn't either of those. He shook his head at her answer, "No. I don't believe in bedtime stories..." his voice, soft but strained like he was coming down from a cold trailed off into silence. "People ask you that a lot, don't they?" he said while he uncrossed his arms. He hesitated for a moment, then offered his hand. "I'm Mordecai, but most people just call me Cai. And what did they call you before they hung you?" he asked with a lopsided grin.
Yet he couldn't really feel threatened by someone who seemed more interested in a measuring contest than prying into his personal affairs. Maybe she hadn't seen what he'd been up to after all, maybe there was still a way he could talk himself out of this. A quick downward glance told him she carried no weapons, no obvious ones at least, or perhaps she had left them somewhere else.
His shoulders dropped just a little and his expression softened, but he kept his arms crossed in front of his chest. "People get hung here," he shrugged. "Or they vanish, get lost in the fog, maybe get eaten by some wild animal." A faint grin split his lips at the end of that. "Not really a suitable place for a dainty girl," he mocked.
He spotted a flash of annoyance on her face, or perhaps it was disappointment. He squinted. It wasn't either of those. He shook his head at her answer, "No. I don't believe in bedtime stories..." his voice, soft but strained like he was coming down from a cold trailed off into silence. "People ask you that a lot, don't they?" he said while he uncrossed his arms. He hesitated for a moment, then offered his hand. "I'm Mordecai, but most people just call me Cai. And what did they call you before they hung you?" he asked with a lopsided grin.
