quite eradicated
Word Count »
The name, and way he carried himself, told Ezekiel he was no doubt a foreigner. One who had come from some sort of society with ranks and nobility and the more domesticated ideas that Inferni did not share. Never would he cross the sea—Ezekiel had no desire to see such man-made wonders when the great northern lands called and the expanse of what lay within the landmass of the Americas.
He remained cautiously tense. This was not because the darker male was threatening, but merely because his paranoia (and he was a man haunted by more than simply shadows) led to such things. This explained much about him. Blonde hair was tousled by the wind, which carried more than a fair snip of winter’s cold in it. Soon enough, the snow would come. He was simply waiting for it.
His ears raised at the latter skills; as far as he knew, Inferni lacked anyone skilled in trading. It was something he would not have valued save for the fact that Salsola’s trading lifestyle was one that he could hope to expand upon in order to gain confidence with their western neighbor. While he did not trust the Thistle Kingdom, he knew they were valuable. “Loquor Latine,” he announced, and nodded towards the man's cross. “Didci ex libro.” It was a worthless skill, but one he valued. Most of his demonlogy books were written in Latin.
“If you wish to join us, you must swear loyalty to this clan. You must be prepared to defend our land with your life.” He had asked this of many, and he imagined this man would not be the last.
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