Lucanis' skin felt hyper-sensitive to every ridge of Davrin's callouses, similar but different to his own, sword instead of daggers. Another memory to haunt his nights, he already knew. The idea of doing more than just quietly wanting didn't really occur to him.

"Knives," Lucanis answered, smiling. It was usually knives. "The wigmaker ate some of the possessed hair and became the biggest abomination I'd ever seen. Like one of those giant spiders they have in the south, just - half made of hair. Cut off some of the legs then split him open. When he died, the rest of the demons that came through had nothing to anchor to and dissipated."