"I would hear your confession." - Damien dbd
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"A confession implies a notion of guilt, I've no qualms for the sins I commit; I am a servant of those down below - O' Holiest of Men."
His laughter floated through the air like delicate dandelion wisps, light and carefree, as he perched upon a sturdy branch outside his village and peered down to his newest visitor. He had not spotted this one before - and to walk so close to his territory - what a curious creature! Robin had planned to nestle down into the old oak's cradling arms, taking temporarily residence and clutching a well-worn copy of William Henry Ireland's The Abbess; which he had planned to read for the umpteenth time. He had lost count how many times he'd fluttered through its pages. He could probably recite it by heart. His empty heart yearned for something new, but long since past were the times when his father would read him stories and buy him books. The Sin Eater held his gaze fixed downward, his large, almost luminous eyes flickering like sickly green lanterns amidst the dark, brooding woodland and with a playful kick, he sent his legs swinging. The bows on his boots swayed;
"But," he mused, his voice slipping into a low croon, as smooth and enchanting as a sirenβs call that lured sailors to their watery dooms. Robin's pale hair fell over his shoulder like falling starlight whilst he leaned forward, his gloved hands tightly holding him up as he continued:
"If you are looking for punishment I would be happy to deliver it unto thee."
