"The fuck is a footpad?" He can't be randomly dreaming these things up now if he didn't even know what things meant. The pain had been real but it was not the pain or the period piece clothing that had Dante dropping the glass of whiskey he had just picked up.
It's an old word for a thief. He's old but he heals quick, just like me.
Dante pricked his finger on a shard of glass and he instantly recoiled, his other hand grabbing on to the countertop so he wouldn't fall off the stool. He brought the finger to his lips and sucked.
He tasted blood on his tongue, and something awakened inside of him.