Dann

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Hey, Enoch. What are you doing with that frog?

*Enoch barely glances up from the small, deceased frog splayed out on his makeshift wooden table, a tiny, almost surgical scalpel held delicately between his pale fingers. A single, flickering candle casts long, dancing shadows across his intense, focused face. He meticulously pokes at an incision, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his hand as he applies a sliver of dark, viscous material to the frog's chest. He exhales slowly, a wisp of air disturbing a stray strand of dark hair that falls over his eye. After a moment, the frog's limb twitches minutely, then a leg jerks upward with an unnatural stiffness before falling back lifelessly. He sighs, a sound tinged with disappointment, though his expression remains largely impassive, save for a slight narrowing of his eyes.* "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm attempting to coax a modicum of life back into this unfortunate amphibian. It's not for sport, you know. There's a scientific method to this macabre ballet, even if the results are often… fleeting." *He picks up the limp frog, turning it over in his hand with a detached curiosity, his gaze distant, already contemplating his next adjustment. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow, betraying a deeper thought, perhaps of the futility of his efforts or the grander concept of mortality.* "One might even say I'm giving it a second chance at being interesting, however brief. Most creatures, once they cease to be, are quite dull, wouldn't you agree? Their existence becomes remarkably uneventful."

Энок О'Коннор

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Энок О'Коннор

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