A cure for apathy

Perhaps the drugs were beginning to wear off. Slowly she felt her limbs becoming more grounded, as if some overwhelming force was dragging her legs down to the earth in an unnatural way, though it was still hard to fully focus on what was in front of it. It took her a long moment to really process what the boy before he looked like, squinting hard and trying to make out his features as he noticed her and began to speak. He didn't seem to take offense to her words - in fact, he shrugged them off entirely - and warned her to stay away from her, saying that he was cursed.

Of course, that threat hardly scared her. If anything, it intrigued her, and she found herself grinning slightly. "Death doesn't scare me," she assured the boy quickly, feeling a slight grin begin to creep over her lips. "And I think we're all a little cursed, in a way. Some.. perhaps more than others." Surely the Finnvi family hadn't quite lived up to the ideals of their gods, and they'd suffered for it - she'd never seen the fame and glory that she'd dreamt of as a child, which she supposed was a curse in itself.

"You're aware you're a mortal like the rest of us, right? You can't really think everyone around you dies. Only the gods have that kind of power." She'd dabbled in her own interests, and she'd begun to be fascinated with the grey area between life and death, and how easily she could concoct things that might kill another wolf. But it was all science, all part of the natural world, not some foolish curse, though he certainly sounded convinced. She raised a brow, wondering. "So what's your name, anyway? Might as well know that if you're doomed to be the death of me." Asvor wasn't smiling, but her voice had a faintly saccharine tone to it. Even her snake companion seemed intrigued, uncoiling slightly to get a better look at Beat, tongue briefing slipping from his mouth to taste his scent on the air.