Circe called up a platform of ice and they both climbed on top, she had ears only for what Nana was saying, however, Nana had a lovely sonorous voice that had not been dulled by age and her impending death, and it was easy to be lost inside of it.
"There is … something that attaches to all of us who have taken a life, it's in you, and also in me. It affects us in various ways, and even the most depraved individuals I have ever come across have that Mark on them. Some call it the mark of Caine, the first killer, or the resentment of souls attached to their murderer, most we never truly understand this mark when they see it, but I've learned to spot it, especially now as I grow nearer to my deathbed."
She held Circe's palm and covered it with hers, as she patted it, "Yet on this man, I see nothing. I don't know if my senses are failing me, or if my judgment has become clouded, yet it scares the living shit out of me."
