[By the time Cy sends the next message, Stiles is wandering through the neglected bowels of the resort. The spades suit branded on his neck gleams like freshly painted ink, a stark contrast of dark black against pale skin. But he pushes back wearily on the twisted sentiments it sends his way, trying to pick through the possible lies and truths Cy offers.]
I shouldn't admit this but I want to trust what you're telling me.
[Stiles reminds himself that he's always had an unnatural knack for feeling out people. Nothing about Cyram ever made him feel uneasy—until the mention of the void, and then when the man's kindness felt too good to be true.]
Do you know what a void kitsune is?
[Maybe he should have framed the question this way initially.]
no subject
I shouldn't admit this
but I want to trust what you're telling me.
[Stiles reminds himself that he's always had an unnatural knack for feeling out people. Nothing about Cyram ever made him feel uneasy—until the mention of the void, and then when the man's kindness felt too good to be true.]
Do you know what a void kitsune is?
[Maybe he should have framed the question this way initially.]