Momentary surprise sat firm upon a silvered tongue,
lounging there as though it too were a golden god
cast amongst a glittering hall, yet no trace of it
found home upon a lupine countenance. A child of
the Deceiver was expected to be well-versed in
both mendacity and the donning of countless masks,
and in both regards Fenrir excelled. If the apparent
detective wished to see the choking stardust that
swirled beneath his skin, hooking calm fingers
beneath a humanoid mask to peel back feigned
humanity and look upon the beast in all his glory,
he would surely have to do better than that.❛Can’t be viewed as somethin’ I ain’t, dauðlega. You
might wanna try puttin’ some glasses on ‘fore you
start pokin’ me, ‘less your name really is Detective
Obvious.❜
❛No, in fact my name isn’t something that
I’m going to tell you. Actually, I doubt I will
be telling you anything about myself,
considering you don’t really want to know
anything. And if you did, then you would
probably try to use it against me.
—- Either way, my deductive abilities are
still much better than yours will ever be.❜
And something close to a sigh escapes him.
This conversation seems about as pointless
to him as a student attempting to correct a
teacher —- they would always be too proud to
bother listening. Perhaps that was his
conversational partner’s greatest weakness.
His inability to listen.
Whatever the case, this man was definitely
other-worldly. That was the conclusion that L
had drawn.
