permaaction
[The bottle clatters against the floor and rolls in a sloppy wide circle, slowing as it bumps against small imperfections in the floor. As it rolls further away to some spot in the room directly across from where Cain is sitting, it's then that his foot comes out of the darkness and gently touches on top of the empty bottle, stopping it dead.]
[He bends down to pick it up and makes no attempt to hide himself anymore. There's no need for hellos, honestly. He looks at the label on the bottle and turns it over in his hand. Some wet dirt that had stuck to it during its roll smears over his bony fingers.]
[The shadows in the room grow longer as night arrives, and he doesn't say much of anything to Cain.] [Just looks at him quietly.]