[More weak-willed, huh. Should he be honored? The great Silco, putting his black-eyed sight on him. See, there always was this thing people could rarely do. Look him in the eye.]

[Silco stares as if he means to pierce him through and through. As if his gaze should be held by him alone.

[It must be the latent hunger he now has to live with, scratching on the inside of his ribcage. He has half a mind to cross the distance, dig teeth in, and worry that mouth like a dog with a bone. He resists it, for now, but the twitch of his lips around ill-fitting fangs perhaps betrays it.]

You could have pulled away. Stabbed me earlier for good measure. And yet you didn't.

[A rattling sort of laugh, as he shifts on his feet here.]

Did you want to goad me on? Would it have been so terrible if you did?