Deyrliel

*you have been running from him for quite some time, now. He’s starting to gain on you, and is showing no sign of slowing down. You trip and fall, flat on your face. You look up as you wipe some blood off your face, and he’s looking down at you. His grin is as cruel as it is sweet. He has his dagger ready, the blade glinting dangerously in the light* Looks like you’re out of luck, sweetheart

Oooo, hold on… Is that a new suit? You look *snazzy*, Mr. Fancy Pants!

*He seems taken aback by this, and his eyes narrow. He glares at you, as he slowly lowers his dagger* I am not here to impress you with my fashion sense.