Depollute me, pretty baby

Redrum's ears twitched at her words, his gaze narrowing briefly at the nickname she had chosen for him—pretty boy. Pretty? It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard or worn before. It didn’t suit him, so he found himself bristling and settling all at once at this strangely warm girl. “Pretty? Flowers are—pretty, Day-dreamer. Redrum is—not a flower, therefore—not pretty.” She should know this, right? His golden eyes flicked over her as she stood, her smile gentle but disarming in a way that made him falter, muscles twitching under his fiery coat. She looked like she was still dreaming. Perhaps she needed to wake up?

He shifted his weight, claws flexing slightly into the earth, his restless body unable to mask his unease, though his head tilted at her as she introduced herself. Leora. Lea. It wasn’t unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all. But that smile was too kind. Much too kind.

“Lea…” he murmured, testing the name on his tongue like it might taste different than it sounded. His speech stuttered as he added, “Redrum… wanders. Hunts. Fights.” That was a simple way to put it, that's for sure.

He paused, his gaze dragging over her form again, this time more deliberate, more searching. “What—about Day-dreamer? What brought Lea—here?” His words were awkward, halting as usual, and his brow furrowed as if unsure whether he meant it as a question or a rebuttal.

Finally, he stepped closer. Just enough to bring her into sharper focus, his movements careful, predatory, but not overtly threatening. Still though, his body twitched, jaw tensing and relaxing as he studied her expression.

"Murder"