The reaction was unexpected, but to be fair, unsurprising. He had seen the boy's fascination with him, he had noticed his almost gleeful expression after he had been Leeched, a phenomenon he had never expected possible. The teenager in his presence was a masochist of the highest order, turning pain into pleasure, submission into challenge, caring nothing for his own life. It was to be respected, at the very least, his lack of fear would serve him diligently, or not, in the future. Volanaro, though, did not have time to play games with the boy. He had his reasons for coming to Sunberth, to return to his past and possibly reflect upon it while in the place that had once been home to him, but this was obviously impossible. The city had changed... beyond all possible recognition. Prosperity turned into ruin. Two murders had happened in the last bell alone, and it seemed that no one cared even the slightest bit.
This, of course, served Volanaro's purposes in any other situation, but seeing as this body was in working order, able to be used for at least a season longer, there was no point in lingering. Upon the boy's mouthing of the words, he tilted his head, unable to read his lips as the slowed reception to the brain rendered such an action discernible, but unable to be fully understood. Instead, he felt the movement of fingers along his arm. He pulled away, tightening his fist as he did so. The water coiled around the older boy's neck even more tightly, Volanaro's hand moving downwards. Just before the movement brought Huskabar's body lower, to nearly eye level with Volanaro, he heard him speak again, for the last time. Nonplussed by the compliment, and again surprised, but not deterred by his pleas for tighter strangulation, he instead allowed it. The pleasure was not Volanaro's enemy. Rather, the Nuit drew the dagger he had picked up. He had stowed it on his buckle, and now... it was time to use it. He held the dagger in his right hand, using the left to direct the Res within the water, holding the tendril in place as he raised the blade.
"Something... to remember me by, my friend."
A bright smile graced the boy Nuit's features as he pressed the blade to left side of the older boy's face, pushing down on it to pierce the skin of his cheek, just near the jaw. The blade cut into flesh, pulling upon the skin up until it neared the lips. A bright smile graced the Reimancer's features as he, at last, broke his concentration, allowing the older teenager to move his neck as he desired. But, he did not linger. Once the hold was released, Volanaro immediately turned aroundm "Ta ta, my friend. Remember the name Volanaro, for he will not remember yours." And with that, the boy Nuit was gone, his new dagger held in his right hand as he hummed a slow, melancholy tune.
