The precariousness of the situation tainted the air about him, it danced over the leather that clothed his form like a vapor. Oh, he could almost convice himself that all would be well, that all was safe and guided by the hand of the One above. The plait of his long blonde hair wrapped by a motion of his hand about his throat to hold it from dancing as he moved along the shadowed line, pausing only when the girl he stalked seemed but an illusion wrapped within an illusion.<br/><br/><em>Sorcery. <br/><br/>              Dark craft. <br/><br/>                             Danger...<br/></em><br/>The hiss of his breath came sharp from Gregor's lips as he gesticulated the sign of the cross, the faintest curve of one side of his mouth into sneer as his muscles and nerves began to respond to what was coming. Knowing it would. How could the shadows bear the light that was God radiant and seeking? And come it did, in the form of winds that ceased and animals that struck their paniced flight, as if to find shelter from the oncoming storm that would upset the balance the thing used obviously to mask his twisted truth.<br/><br/>The sound of the rustling leaves, the silence unnatural broken by the hiss creep song of something slithering drew his attention first, the force of blade called to palm by the flick of wrist after cross was kissed was his answer. The man was not untrained, nor did he lack his own gifts to be used when needed. But it was his belief that such was only to be called upon in the extreme cases as to not tempt him into vanity or thought that it was his to use, would be his undoing in this case. Blade edge may well sever the vine that held his ankle, but it would do naught for the next or the other that might come as he found himself pulled to rough bark that bit into the leather and caused the friction that blood blessed the innards of his casing as he writhed, blade glimmer flashing as he sheered what he could before ..well before the sound that filled the air compelled some silence within his movements.<br/><br/><strong>   "Demon."</strong>The words that came to his ears may well have been accusatory, but his own answer was softly uttered as if classifying that which was. True name not known to him, not yet, but as the tainted growl reached his ears he felt the danger in the tone and texture of the force that pushed it into being in his mind.  Could he feel the power and weight of that which gazed upon him and through him? Into the core where the thoughts that even could not be thought without the pain of blasphemy tainting his soul, that is where the searching presence invaded. Into the meat of the man, who was not merely man, but tool and weapon, his heart in placement most divine but his soul a woven thing of tormented complexity laced with the mettle and worth of being.<br/><br/>It was that mettle, the conviction of one who had known nothing but his faith as power and his weakness both that flavored the thought which came now. No words, for if this being was as powerful as Gregor believed him to be, what point were the wasted words?<em> "Bargain? Shadow Sulker, what would keep you to bargain, other then your truthful name and bond. Suffer not bargains with the darkness, for the darkness knows only its truth: that everything can be corrupted and tainted once welcomed in."</em>His body flexed as if to test the strength of the vines that wrapped him so, holding him trussed tightly to the tree. The blade though, that he turned between deft fingers to let his grip tighten against. Sacrifice in blood as the calloused grip felt the slice of blade and the warmth of blood that began to slide down to fingertips.<br/><br/>And so he began to pray, as if to pray might silence the voice within his head, as if to pray might break the silence unnatural that showed the power of the one who now held him as such.