"His name is Azrael."

Knives looks at the sleeping baby in his arms, completely oblivious to the newly hired babysitter.

"He's not my son, but I'll still kill you if he gets hurt."

This time, Knives' attention is focused on the human in front of him, his pale blue eyes were cold, piercing into the very soul, assuming that the soul even exists, of course, but that's a completely different conversation.

"Azrael is a plant, but he's growing... much slower than he should. More like the growing of a human child, so I need a human babysitter. Is that clear?"