That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die . . .
He could tell that she found him crazy, or, at the very least, someone of an undesirable disposition. The male wanted desperately to tell her that this wasn't him, that his affect was simply a result of the nightmarish world his dreams and eventually his eyes had revealed to him. At one point, perhaps, Alhazred had been normal if not a bit disturbed and obsessive, but something eldritch and hidden had driven him over the edge of insanity. Recoverable, if given the right circumstances, but wholly encompassing at the present moment. He wanted only to find answers; he sought desperately to explain away the things that haunted his subconscious. Perhaps one could not know of the horrid feeling of being out of control of one's mind if they had not experienced it for themselves.
Alhazred stared at her curiously, his naturally thin body looking all the more haggard from his recent travels. There was no food to be found amongst the desert, the shifting sands held only lizards and other such scaly abominations. His stomach ached for the taste of a kill that was not days old, and yet he could communicate none of his desires to the woman in front of him. Eyes of yellow and gold blinked as she explained to him the nature of the cannibals of this land, and she drew a bit closer, perhaps not a very intimate distance and yet far more suited to conversation than the circling she had performed before. It made him feel disgusting, to be an object of such fear. "Alhazred is glad that cannibals are not so much of a nuisance in these lands any longer. He feels, though, that there is something else."
Aside from his curious manner of speaking, it was obvious that the male was not always entirely incoherent. Insane, perhaps, but not entirely rude, nor hostile. He had never been a fighter, no, games of the mind had always been his preferred method of altercation should it ever arrive. He sighed, then, his eyes moving from her and to the side, staring off into the woodlands as if remembering some far-off memory. Perhaps he was lamenting his mind as it once had been, or perhaps he struggled to even remember who and what he had been before he had dug his claws too deep into the sands.
"You think Alhazred is crazy. You find him unpleasant, his words to carry no meaning beyond the ramblings of some poor, disturbed soul." The words were not spoken as an accusation, rather, the male sounded rather glum- as if he had already considered and accepted the implications of what he had said. Perhaps that was his fate, to carry the warnings of what lay beyond perceptible reality, and be passed off simply as a man who had lost his mind. "If you had seen what Alhazred has seen, you would be speaking in tongues too, he thinks..." He trailed off, his mouth still moving and muttering although the words were under his breath and likely gibberish. He wanted to warn her, if only he could find the words to describe what could not be comprehended.
ALHAZRED
Crazed Wanderer From the Nameless City
Five | No Heart | No Soul | Loner
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