He shrugged, staring down to the priestess. "I, feel no pain... ment, or sew, as you see fit..." Lifting his other hand, he gently undid the clasps which held the glove firm to his armor's sleeve, as well as undoing the bracer, and stowing it upon his belt, out of sight. Once the glove was removed, he extended his bared hand to her, this skin a ghostly pale gray color. It looked like the flesh taperings on his fingers, when the tips rotted away, had been cauterized after being cut short... Leaving long, spidery digits in their wake, each tip personally sharpened to a point. His eyes, as always, shifted from her, the their suroundings, and back again... Studying the smaller forsaken's features, the manner in which her lips worked, the tone of her voice, even twinkle in her eyes... A sharp contrast to his own, predatory expression. "I guess, it is good, that few speak of me... Less definition, the greater, the rarity..." Falling silent for longer then usual before speaking again, "Although... You seem quite, the contradition, to this concept... For few indeed... Are those like you... The first, in fact, beheld by my eyes..." and for a moment, his gaze lingered upon hers longer then normal... a steady focus on her.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>