It's a meaty crack, the wet sound of flesh and bone splitting, brains spattering across the floor. Danil's head cocked in curiosity, and he ventured forward, striding towards the sound. Which presented him with the image of the pale young man killing rats.

He pauses, standing before the man, watching, faintly interested. There's something hypnotic with the efficiency of the murder.

Reminded him of Tal, perhaps.