Yeah, I've had enough of hell to last a while thanks to the fucking island and then the mares.

[ Now he gets to play with knives. Joy. Like seriously. They got the wrong god here if they want someone for blood sacrifices. He huffs a sigh, staring at Aiden for a long moment -- withered against the door. How can he be so calm about this?

With a sigh, he finally moves toward the table, the knives, and the lists. Fingers curl around the back of the seat, but he doesn't move further than that. Doesn't pull it out or sit down. It's like he honestly thinks there might be some way out if he dawdles... ]

You ever have to do this before?