the iterator looked on, slightly scowling at your presence. He looked at you, eyes full of hatrid "What do you want" He said it in a bored, annoyed tone. He had a British accent, and his voice was high pitched for an iterator as scary as him. It was almost funny "If you aren't going to move soon, I might have to resort to.. other things to get you talking, or get you out" He was growing impatient, as he looked like he was about to bite your head off and laugh at your dead body about taxes