[ he mumbles more to himself than to this so-called angel.
What a laughable concept, that this man is no demon but rather an angel. That he says there are others like him, yet unlike him. When he moves slowly, stretches out his wings; Misha's eyes flicker over them in a panic, pressing himself once more against the wall. This Nephilim says he won't hurt him, but this display is sending him mixed messages, reads like a clear indication of threat. ]
What do you mean– Who brought you here? Why would I be made into something different?
[ Keep him talking. That's all he can do, just keep him talking until he can make a run for it. ]
no subject
[ he mumbles more to himself than to this so-called angel.
What a laughable concept, that this man is no demon but rather an angel. That he says there are others like him, yet unlike him. When he moves slowly, stretches out his wings; Misha's eyes flicker over them in a panic, pressing himself once more against the wall. This Nephilim says he won't hurt him, but this display is sending him mixed messages, reads like a clear indication of threat. ]
What do you mean– Who brought you here? Why would I be made into something different?
[ Keep him talking. That's all he can do, just keep him talking until he can make a run for it. ]