Shadow Mountain i had walked my entire life as a dead man

some skepticism? lestan ran back over the things he had said, wondering which of them inspired the pretty blink. but they were moving along now, winter's wake wafting satined words into the air as he spoke of the way ancient fell to modern.
he almost bit the inside of his own cheek when asked, trying to summon the words which had seemed so present only seconds before.
"i'm t-told my family is witches. the mayfairs," he uttered, a thin tendril of silver dread glinting inside him at the sound.
a quick blinking; memories of himself shouting and mad in seaside mud. "i c-can't say that i am. i much prefer the p-practical. the tangible," heart trotting again in desire-mad gait.
"will you w-write new laws?" lestan asked, curious even as he found himself unable to hold that unassailable gaze for any longer.