Sal's eyes gleamed as he watched Morana with a predatory fixation. Banru had said to not overdo it, but damnit, she was so ripe. Sweet, innocent, naive - everything that Sal never had been or ever would be. Everything Sal had hated in another human being.
Slowly, leisurely, Sal rounded the trunk, appearing seemingly out of air to Morana's right. He crossed his arms, a steady smile smeared across his face. He watched the dark-haired child lay the flowers by the marker, completely oblivious to his presence.
If he wanted, he could kill her right...
No.
Letting out a low, almost irritated, breath of hot air, Sal finally spoke. "Who're the flowers for, sweetheart? You don't strike me as the murdering type."