There’s only one thing I can drink anymore. It’s why I’m here, talking to you. You Black Robes know about drinking blood, don’t you? You make your people in these wooden seats do it every time they’re here. In that way we’re the same. But you’re still a two-legged, even from drinking all that blood. Not me. What I am now is a four-legged, but with a man’s memories, as punishment.
