"ah," lasher lilted, reminded of his two meetings with the girl named bazi. "those are darker visions." yet his eyes danced as he spoke these words, and without hesitation he tucked into the deeper meat of his tale. "they are all about us; they roam the day as well as the night. i myself was believed to be spirit," taltos explained, shamelessly meeting falwasi's pointed gaze. "you see now that i am tangible, flesh and blood, but once, i am told, i was not. i was not always this man, but a wielder of storms and rain, to lash the backs and bodies of those who sought to hurt the witches i loved."
"it was from suzanne, my first witch, that i received the name. she brought me into being, and if it was from the tempest that i was born, or if she birthed me into the world and suckled me as any other mother might suckle her infant, i do not know." his eyelids had fallen to half-mast as he spoke; falwasi continued to exist, but it was upon the fringes of his consciousness, and taltos spoke as if to himself.
"i do recall the squalls, the trees broken by the wind's force. it seems my earliest memory was one of storm, and rain, and violence wrought by nature's hand. if i am a spirit, then i have been made corporeal for a reason — and if i never was, i hold a spirit's memory, surely."