Ravensblood Forest fire blood

He was, simply put, a difficult man to get along with. So wrapped up in his own life of seclusion, there were times that the ashen male could not bring it upon himself to be troubled by conversing with others. Her intentions were good, and she did not make him uncomfortable, but his mind was not latched to their chatting. It was a surprise that he had managed a proper response to her inquiry. But he had offered his name when she had requested it. When his golden gaze fell on her, he could see that she was growing bored with his silence and would have preferred a more vocal companion.
 
The pale woman returned his introduction with her own name and then rose to her feet. He watched carefully, without saying a word, and when she bowed to him in farewell, Kierkegaard did dip his head in response before watching her depart. And when the brute was alone again, he found that it suited him far better than the company of strangers. Pointing himself in his intended direction, the ghost wandered from their meeting place in search of seclusion.