Re: first class ; baths
Another kick in the water, the boy lifting the leg made of flesh and blood to compare it to the other. He didn't need Death to tell him that he wasn't right, that he shouldn't be this way. He knew that with every aching bone of his body. One might have thought that this sort of existence would be lacking pain, but that was hardly the truth. Bones should not be exposed as they were, bumped around, knocked around, every step a test of his endurance.
The boy lowered both legs back into the water, looking over towards Death just as the cloaked figure turned towards him. The laugh still hung in the air, burned into his thoughts, his memory, a shudder racing down his spine in answer. "It could give them at least a fighting chance," he said plainly. "You say that you cannot be outrun, but there is a first time for everything." The boy paused, considering how much to say about his own existence. "I nearly got away, but look where it left me." He raised the hand made of bone, fingers splayed, the dim light shining through his palm where flesh ought to fill in the gaps. "And no. I'm not afraid of you. I've met you before. I looked at you, and I left. My fear was left behind with what was taken from me that day."