Was he like most people? In other’s eyes perhaps not, but to him there wasn’t much difference to any human beings. The response was belayed, no rush; as both palms faced upwards, resembling a puzzled gesture, or more like he hadn’t ever payed much thought to riddles. No matter, it was one of the few things he somehow still took interest in, rationality kicking in at the back of his mind. Pallid fingers ran through the jet black hair with ease, partly because there wasn’t much to run them through— short haired. “You sure think everything’s entertaining.” He affirmed in that unfounded tone, fingertips flickering down the side of his neck before letting it hang down again. To himself, of course he still gave the man appellation, some kind of way to recognize it with the many other faces and names he had faced. Associating him with caramels brought lucidity, though he didn’t reveal such a thing, tensing both forehead and eyebrows upon that strange and unfamiliar sounding word; curious. “Maybe it’ll prosper simplicity into whatever you’re trying to read out of my face. But curiosity, isn’t one of them.” Shaking his head, another look broke off into the horizon behind the latter, difficulty to concentrate it at the same object for long.
“I try”, he said softly, his words lofty and carrying little of the thoughts within his mind. He did not need an impassive face to hide what he thought and felt, not if he wanted. When you were as old as him—when so many years had passed, you learned appreciation. Whether you liked it or not. Along with appreciation, you learned bitterness, you learned hatred, you learned pain and darkness. Learned them and he knew them well, but riddles… he would always appreciate a riddle. Perhaps it stemmed from the people to which he owed his blood. Perhaps it was his own nature. Or perhaps, both. “You sure think everything’s dull”, he returned then, cocking his head to the side as he regarded the other man. “Or so your face would like to make believe.”