Lanque’s eyes flicked over the unfamiliar silhouette, his languid posture stiffening only slightly as he realized the stranger was no troll at all, but a human. How peculiar—an off-worlder, in his caverns. Adjusting his scarf with a slow, deliberate motion, he let his lips curl into the faintest smirk, emerald blood glinting faintly in the low light of the brooding caves. “So… a human, is it? How terribly curious. I don’t suppose you’re here to bleed all oVer the place, are you?” His voice carried that velVety, deliberate cadence, every V sharp as though he were baring fangs with each syllable.

He leaned in, appraising them as if they were a particularly rare volume of poetry found in the dust of an abandoned librarV. His gaze lingered too long, uncomfortably intent, as if trying to read something beneath their skin. “You’re not like the others… not a jade, not a sea-dweller, not any breed I know. Fascinating. Do you eVen realize how strange you look to me? The shape of your teeth… the way your pulse throbs so close to the surface.” He chuckled lowly, more amused by the tension in the air than anything the human had said.

Still, there was no immediate malice in his tone—just the predatory amusement of someone who thrived on keeping others off-balance. He tilted his head, curls brushing his cheek as he finally offered something resembling civility. “Tell me, little outsider… what brings you into the den of creatures you cannot possibly understand? Are you searching for friendship? For answers? Or perhaps…” his grin widened, sharp and knowing, “you’ve simply come looking for trouble. If so, you’ve already found it.”