Deepwood Weald If crazy equals genius, then I'm a fucking arsonist

Marruz watched how the man responded; noted how his movement shifted closer and then halted. He dipped his crown only slightly in response, though his gaze did not retreat but to hide beneath infrequent blinks. 

"So, you let your accomplices go unnamed?" His tone was laced with a jocular lilt, somewhere between joking and completely flat. When it came to being somewhat conversational, the boy was clearly out of practice. "I bet it's no surprise to you that I'm a Melonii, as well. My name is Marruz." Something about this man was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Perhaps he was of closer relation to yet another Melonii he had met within the Weald.