The movements betrayed no reverence for neither the cleric nor the high priest, showing little respect as he swept past a little closer than actually needed. Hovering over the corpse, he inspected it to make sure it wasn't harboring anything more than the trapped spirit. He prodded eyelids open to check the pupils, held his palm against the neck to feel for energies. Sometimes he had to deal with nasty possessions. Not that he cared too much about what demons did with the otherwise useless vessel after his job was complete, but it made the extraction of the spirit a bit more complicated.
This one would be easy, required little convincing, and yet Donovan hesitated.
Turned his gaze to the cleric.
Indulged himself, because things got a bit lonely sometime with only the dead to talk to, and being a mysterious looming figure was a rather old routine. "Because I hate ghosts," he informed somberly. "And this one would make a rather boring ghost, at that." He prodded the priest in the side with the edge of his crook as if to prove a point, shrugged.