Where The Edges Blur

Imonde remains silent, his eyes just flittering along her body before coming to rest lazily upon her ears. Pain, more of it, rushing along the wound and prodding his ill wishes as he curls his lips back in rage. "Yes...we have been mar-ked, we do believe." He answers sharply, his head turning as he slides his eyes from her ears and down toward her face. A wonderful... Was that word really directed towards him? Confusion sneaked it's way across his face, tongue sliding across his teeth as he blinks at her.

He was doing something wrong if it was pleasant to meet him. Then she would go on about being a healer, a healer? That meant she would have to touch him, and how he did loath being touched by those that where lesser than he. She then smiled at him, what was he supposed to do? Leisurely he eases his ears away from his skull, only nodding toward her and then pointing his nose at his wound, granting silent permission for her to look upon it.

The woman should be honored, it wasn't everyday that one received permission to touch a God. But he wonders for a moment how it feels to be within the presence of perfection. "You may a-pproach." He echoes hollowly, perhaps if he feels a touch better he shall reward her.