Serotonia.

His madness was interrupted, and rather pleasantly at that. A voice as sweet as honey, with eyes as orange as citrus. Setekh's molten eyes regarded Kiliaen with a mixture of curiosity and something more… methodical that lingered in the depths of his gaze. A low rumble escaped from deep within his chest, a greeting as he placed a furrow between his brows.

As Kiliaen drew nearer, the scent of her, the concern plastered on her face… it sent a tingle down his spine that collided with the turmoil within him. How could he possibly remain in ill spirits with such a beauty peering at him so warmly? He regarded her with a sidelong glance, his voice a gravelly whisper as he responded, "My apologies, lovely. I’ve just a little stomach-ache, nothing some agrimony could not solve." His words were calm, his gaze alight as he smiled at the woman. A perfectly soft filter over his gaze, he allowed himself a rove over her body - ah, but not too much. No, nothing too ravenous. His skull cocked to one side, and the man approached her with a slight disregard for personal space.

Setekh's form loomed over her, his presence casting a shadow that seemed to stretch beyond the physical. His gaze flickered to the tranquil surroundings that surrounded them, a quizzical look to him as he made a small show of realizing how close he had gotten to her and stepped back once. "I am very new to these lands," He mused, voice as gentle as a breeze. “Might you… have some information to help me get my bearings? I would much appreciate it." The God continued to watch her with an intensity that was manufactured to relay the importance of her answer, that only she could help him.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness