Silver Creek let's kill someone

rosings.

it sounded delightfully... innocent. he wondered if like the flower, it was aesthetically beautiful and incredibly fragile once plucked from its thorny vein; like a woman, iliksis supposed. held in the hand it was a thing of incredible radiance, yet cloyingly simple to commit to rot.

rosings. the roles the man explained bemused iliksis, who then wondered if it was the men's duty to protect, then surely it was the woman's duty to serve? an ugly and almost hateful gleam briefly flickered in his yellow gaze, though it was largely concealed by the dull flick of his heavy eyelids.

strict tradition .. the words had a different meaning to him, as he thought back to the barbaric rites of himminrond. their strict tradition would make grayson's toes curl, iliksis thought smugly. "it's man's duty regardless of tradition," he parroted back, poking carefully at the man's morals, trying to instill a basis of trust. "so, that fits me rather well." 

and of the women? he thought hungrily, feeling that question press sickeningly against his tongue. he would wait for it to come up in their conversation naturally before inquiring, his mouth kept shut with a firm sort of resolution.