Herbalists' Cache been training vipers to come for you

It is strangely pleasant, a feeling he is unfamiliar with, and it sings with the pain throbbing not from the wounds scattered across his bulk but the one that sits in his chest—a pain unable to heal, a scab constantly picked at.

His cheeks twitch up, a glint of something holding in the intensity of his gaze.

He hates it. He loves it.

No one, he parrots, and the same way the girl did adds on, a demon. A hunter. A boy trapped in an evergoing loop.