[It's nice to be missed, to be longed for and sought after. Dorian makes such sacred vows to him and now Diarmuid as well, and it warms him, and indeed distances him from that fatal edge. He's already gone over, already lost even without the Shuck's influence, but to fall again would cause irreparable damage. Then he'd just be lost to everyone, little better than the mad dogs he so despised.

Gilgamesh must answer with care. He cannot divulge too much, but Diarmuid will sniff out a lie if he offers too little. And didn't he deserve the truth, or something like it, for daring to come this far? For shattering the King's armor and making him hesitate, as few ever could or would.

He must answer with care for the both of them. He knows well this knight, so bound by his word. He won't curse him to act against himself. Not again.]

The Shuck took my life on Samhain. He's sworn to take it a second time, when next his moon fills the sky.

[And a third. And a fourth. And so on, forever. That stubbornness returns, sharp-edged and fierce.]

I would fight him myself before it happens. There's no need for you to intervene.