The man clothed in black stood there as though he blended into the night, as he held out a bleeding heart in his right hand with his eyes fixed on the corpse before him. Barlow's body had weirdly turned into some dried-out skeleton with disfigured rotting flesh.
He had heard the last words the witch spoke as well as caught the expression on her face before she died. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind since he couldn't make anything out of it. Probably a dying person's mindless muttering, he mused.
His figure stood there entirely still, momentarily paused as he briefly thought back on it. After which he looked at the woman in his arms and then turned back to look at Bree. He finally turned his eyes in the direction where Nisa took off.
