Felltree Marsh i was in darkness

His admission had earned him another meeting of their gazes her's a green — that would he had been a more poetic being he might have compared to the green of the aurora borealis (but alas he was not a poetic creature) — and his silver, as cold as the metal the color was borrowed from. Ghost wasn't ashamed of it but he couldn't claim to be be particularly proud of his kills either. They had not been his vendettas and thus little reason for him to find to boast. He'd done what The Officer had asked of him, he'd done what he'd been trained and conditioned for. Nothing more and nothing less. Ghost saw her gaze then travel to his docked tail but he offered not explanation for it. He tended to feel adversity to sharing it for the story tended to give him flashbacks and he didn't particularly feel like explaining that either.

She was a strange creature, this Banner, Ghost considered as he studied her, something between scrutiny and fascination in his expression. He could not conclude why she was apologizing to him. The only time anyone had ever said those words had been during that period of begging for mercy right before he killed them or fought them to the death. Some had not been so ready to accept their death but had fallen by his teeth all the same; but he'd never heard the words uttered with a sincerity that he'd heard many times in his own voice when he'd had to speak those words to The Officer. It had gotten rarer the older Ghost had gotten, knowing what The Officer had expected. Banner, however, had done nothing wrong, hadn't upset him or offended him in any manner. “Why?” Ghost inquired with a raise of his brow.