red sky at morning BY Carasson

It was laughable how distracted the Keeper seemed. Whether it was because he didn't take any of this seriously or because his thoughts wandered elsewhere didn't matter to him. You like to watch then? He feigned a smirk at a thought that wore plainly on his features. Don't blink. He turned the dagger in his hand, holding it now by the hilt as he positioned Chip's hand to splay wide. Just breathe.

A beat later he was using the point of the blade to slice along the large calloused palm. A red thread of blood swelled up, as he then dropped the blade and pressed hard into the wound. Breathe He reminded the Keeper as he squeezed the blood into one of the smaller bowls. When the flow stopped, as the healing was quick, he patted his hand and took up the dagger again to do the same thing to his own palm in the other small bowl on the other side of the larger. He grunted against the sharp pain. Tongue slipping over his canines as he relished it all. He felt his muscles clench. 

Now. A simple start. You want to heal your ally's, say in a fight against darkspawn. You can sacrifice your own fortitude for their good. He flicked his wrist and beads of blood from each bowl converged together in a helix above the larger bowl, swirling artfully. He took up the dagger again and swept it quickly over his cheek. Focus your blood to heal me. When at the same time, he intended to do something quite different in return. He would let the wound be healed by the other, to continue the farce until the moment when the spell was truly in place to wreak the most damage. He closed his eyes and willed his body's own nature response to slow the healing. Eyes sparkled with anticipation in spite of his desire to keep his presence hidden.