[ There are things he Knows and Understands, things that no mortal man living outside of the veil could ever behold. But it often takes hearing with his own ears and seeing with his own eyes to discern truth. That is what he is, amongst everything else: a reaper of reckoning, damned to listen to the truths of his fellow damned, and to know when they are lying. (To be told when they are lying, for it isn't really him who casts judgment but The Other who speaks in its hateful whisper, Its rage pumping through his own blood when a soul It wants refuses to speak truthfully.)

A surface truth, here, reveals itself as the slight figure approaches him, a soldier in miniature: his mysterious contact is in fact, a young girl. The spirit is almost stunned as he watches her near, though it's more awed than anything, crystal eyes flashing wider as he takes the child in. (Yes, only a child, but so much more than only that. A sharp little mouth set in a wide grin; she is a predator.)

Still hidden away, a second pair of eyes flutters open, the bloodthirsty beast within him drawn to Its own kind. Already It whispers to him, hungry to know more of this little monster. Edward stays still and silent as he watches her, and as her smile fades, one of his own appears, soft. ]

As different as you are inside, I would imagine, my sweet.

[ He's not... stalling, per-say, but he is in no rush to reveal his horrors to the girl. There are things to discover, to learn. He tips his head slightly to the side, curious. ]

For I suspect there is much more darkness even beneath your gruesome surface. What is it that you hunger for, child? Flesh, blood? Souls?