The air was heavy and wet. Humid, save it wasn't warm. The chill mist felt good on his pallid skin while he lounged, eyes closed, on the soggy, wet roof. If he didn't look around, he could pretend it really was home. Save that, beyond the small circle of wet and mud and rot, it wasn't.
Nezhit'yu was plucked from his reverie by the sound of a voice. It wasn't expressly close, but it didn't have to be. The vampire could hear pretty well. He didn't move right away, choosing instead to idly listen. Discern who it was he might be dealing with. Only then did he lazily slip from the rooftop, as graceful as a panther. When he walked through the muck and mud, there was barely a trace. It wasn't that he
walked on water, per say, but Nezhit'yu knew how to maneuver in the sucking mud and swirling bog-like state of the ground. He found the source in no time.
Leaning against a blackened, mold-covered tree, the blight-vampire watched his guest for a long moment while they struggled through a patch of thick, dark mud. Seemingly unconcerned they were even there. Nezhit'yu wasn't, really. His interest in others waned fairly quickly. After a time, though, he asked, "What are you doing here?" His words were as chilled and misty as the clouds overhead. Not exactly the most friendly or welcoming of creatures. The vampire recognized that the one in front of him wasn't mortal, but beyond that, he didn't know anything else.
Didn't care, either.
The mist and wet had stuck his clothes to him and made his tattooed and runic skin glisten where the faint, grey light shone. He looked odd and alien, most like, with white hair stuck to him like pale tendrils. The only color on him were his bright, molten gold eyes that bore into his guest.
@DragonSong