Was this nameless face really flirting with him, a man of the cloth?

Well he had not quite expected it but then again he was still getting a feel for Saintsmourn, for the mist that was cloying as it danced across the scenery. Almost as if it was it's own separate reality from the material plane. The chill in the air that just barely got underneath one's skin, the way that it filled one's lungs.

Bringing to mind that the wet that he felt with each breath was almost like he imagined one would feel like if they were dying from tuberculousis. But that was a dark thought that he shoved to the little cage in his mind that was reserved for those such vagaries of thought.

"Sometimes curiousity is a sin, I suppose what matters is the intention behind the curiousity."

Whether one use it for good.. or evil.