I watch him carefully, but I am already fairly certain he's not a Horror.

I hope that assumption doesn't come back to bite me, later.

I am hungry.

He smiles, and I manage to smile back at him. It's not the most familiar expression, for me to see or make. But it's very human, and I appreciate his effort though for as casually as he carries himself, he also speaks with a certain stilted measure that is familiar to me. Not Makai, but... cultured, I suppose would be the word.

"This is awfully forward." I say softly, meeting his eyes again. "But I accept, on the condition that you tell me your name. Mine is Sengoku Ryouma." The assumed surname rolls off my tongue easily- that I have had a chance to practice. But for just a moment, the Soul Metal ring on my left hand feels just a shade too heavy, just a touch too warm.