A Heart so Cold

Isla arched an eyebrow up at Archebold, connecting the threads loosely to them being one and the same, though her dry smile suggested she did not really think that to be the case. "I try my best not to have associations with death, being a healer," she said to him softly, though she didn't dispute his point. Associated she may be, but that didn't mean she brushed the back of death's hand every day. A ruined manor came into view and Isla tilted her head back a little, looking it over. "A big place for one man," she remarked. "It sounds lonely." Stepping inside at his direction, she glanced about as best she could by the starlight, up until Archebold kindly lit the torch and led them deeper into the manor. "Whilst I don't disagree that we are drawn by the unknown, by the curious, I find it much easier to navigate with a light," Isla said, smirking and letting her eyes dance across the dusty halls and webbed corners. "I get the impression that you have fine tastes," she said. Isla the flesh is weak