he was closer to a cult leader than any humble priest, but he was content to pretend the distinction did not matter.

“Some cursed spirits are mindless. Some are territorial. Some are clever enough to be a problem.”

His eyes shifted to the creature again, unblinking. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity sharpening his tone.

“And what,” he asked, “is that sitting on your shoulder?”

He pictured the way his voice would crack from yelling, the arms flailing, and the uncontrollable grin spreading across his face. Ridiculous as it was, it was exactly what he expected.

as if the memory amused him.