Wrath knew there was to be a cost of some kind, but when they mention wanting his blood, his shoulders stiffen. He would never be willing to part with it, because he has been on the other side of this deal. Their eyes are on him like they attempt to be predators, but Wrath is older than all of them - more powerful except they currently hold the key to what ails him.
But he stares at them with all the sharpness and danger of a predator himself as he waits for their reply. His body is poised like a warrior, like a serpent coiled tightly, prepared to strike at a moment's notice.
The Necromancers shift at the weight of his ancient glare, but their attention never stops being pointed in the demon's direction, as if they can sense the power in his blood, the strength of it. "It is for your benefit, not our own. If you want your cure, we must have your blood. If you do not want it then be resigned to your fate."
Wrath's voice is sharp when he speaks from his position, stepping closer to the Necromancers. There is vitriol in his voice because at least he is incredibly clear about the conditions of his deals of blood: "Liar."
no subject
But he stares at them with all the sharpness and danger of a predator himself as he waits for their reply. His body is poised like a warrior, like a serpent coiled tightly, prepared to strike at a moment's notice.
The Necromancers shift at the weight of his ancient glare, but their attention never stops being pointed in the demon's direction, as if they can sense the power in his blood, the strength of it. "It is for your benefit, not our own. If you want your cure, we must have your blood. If you do not want it then be resigned to your fate."
Wrath's voice is sharp when he speaks from his position, stepping closer to the Necromancers. There is vitriol in his voice because at least he is incredibly clear about the conditions of his deals of blood: "Liar."