His explanation was flawed, disjointed, and barely made any sense. Samael didn’t even know what he was attempting to convey at first. For the most part Samael had learned to communicate vocally, though his sense of being fractured when his mind frayed and split, openly showing in his speech. Some days he was someone else. Some days he was catatonic. Today, though, he was here. He grinned, wide and devilish. “Poor creature, pretending to be a corpse and thinking that will prevent you from truly becoming one.”
The animal was submissive, rolling over and displaying his taunt belly, and momentarily the prince’s ego was sated by this display. He was some sort of stray, that much was apparent. Out here alone he’d surely, quickly die. Only a love of death kept Samael alive, feeding on the flesh and blood of others to keep his heart beating. “What will you do now? Lie back down and wait for the birds to peck your bones clean?” he asked, eyes narrowing.