[Hector is, of course, the first one down the stairs, lantern in hand. The undead crew that trail behind don’t really need the light, and they lumber behind, slow but steady.]
What is this? [Hector whispers into the oppressive silence to break it. He knows what in the basic sense- great vats of blood- but why?
He presses a hand to one of the glass containers, smudging the dust as he checks the temperature of it.
Finally, he can take it no longer. Worse than any cat, Hector always needs to look inside, no matter what toll his curiosity takes.
Not bothering to wait for his crew to all gather round and ready themselves, Hector approaches the coffin and puts a hand to the lid to check it.]
no subject
What is this? [Hector whispers into the oppressive silence to break it. He knows what in the basic sense- great vats of blood- but why?
He presses a hand to one of the glass containers, smudging the dust as he checks the temperature of it.
Finally, he can take it no longer. Worse than any cat, Hector always needs to look inside, no matter what toll his curiosity takes.
Not bothering to wait for his crew to all gather round and ready themselves, Hector approaches the coffin and puts a hand to the lid to check it.]