Duskfire Glacier no rest for the wicked

the man does not lie. he smiles, and it's not tight-lipped like iosef's. it irks him, how genuine it is. it does not sit with him right. the man is easy to roll over and accept he is not held to Faust's standards. while most would find it charming, iosef finds it complacent. weak. 

but, he's learned not to judge a man's strength by words only. they were deceiving. he's hoping the man is more than pleasant smiles; he's hoping there's a bite beneath that charm. 

"we will see." is all he grunts before he's moving. with a quickness that belies his heft, he's barreling at the man's front. jaws parted, spittle freeing from his gums. only, at the last moment, to veer to the right. 

leaning down, he snaps at a limb. testing the man. searching for weakness. feigning a blow, as he preferred to play with his kills first.