the running man is out of death

Addam sighs into the warm crease between Minoth's crotch and thigh, subconsciously registering that there should, probably, be hair there but not making any particular note of it - at least not at first.

The longer he lies there, the more cognizant he becomes of the simultaneous sheer normality and immense off-puttingness of the body that is a Blade's rendered partially human.

Of, in other words, the smoothness of sensual flesh that should be far more rippled and corded with muscles and scars and pus.

"You are so beautiful, to me..." he murmurs.

Minoth's is a very human sound of grief.