Barrow Fields and all the world was devils

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the sylph's voice was boyish, but his eyes held the nature of one who has seen much, and the gaze armand drank into himself as the other proferred sweet words. they looked upon one another openly, with admiration, and beneath the approving stare of the other did the aureate boy find himself straightening with pride. such lovely things! such winning lies!
armand gave a little shake of his head, tonguetip snaking out to wet his lips, before they formed there a simple sentence" "you serenade death." for was not this boy, himself, the very embodiment of such, a burning emaciation beneath the wintry sun? armand laughed then, a truthful sound, and waited for the other to speak in the honeyed tones again.[/tr][/td][/table]