[ No one ever took the time to tell Brandon not to play with his food, and Qetzi is the only one here with real manners anyway, so absently arranging pieces of his meal into a rough pentagon is just something he does while he listens and thinks. There's no significance to not having eaten yet, either; he hasn't thought much on what it might be because he already assumes it's terrible, in nature if not necessarily in taste. The house is full of death, more than the volume of years would support, and cannibalism is one of the many possible explanations for why so many bodies met their end here. ]
It's true, there are hundreds like me.
[ Unspoken implication: but I'm the best one, really. Or at least, the only one who serves his particular masters. The Morrisons seem quite isolated here, though, and Haran also obviously doesn't care to do the equivalent of a magical background check. Why should he, when Brandon is here to entertain him? ]
no subject
It's true, there are hundreds like me.
[ Unspoken implication: but I'm the best one, really. Or at least, the only one who serves his particular masters. The Morrisons seem quite isolated here, though, and Haran also obviously doesn't care to do the equivalent of a magical background check. Why should he, when Brandon is here to entertain him? ]
Have you traveled far, Master Morrison?