He grins. “I’ve visited many medieval castles, and one odd thing about the older castles is the angle of sight from the wall to the far side of th...e moat. They all have different heights and different moat widths, yet that angle is almost a constant in them all. After gunpowder was introduced into Europe the castles that were expanded or built then have many different angles of sight, but all of the older ones from the sword, lance, bow and arrow days seem to have almost the same angle. I just. They would come home from school with her so they could study together and as soon as they were gone her mother would tell her what was wrong with them. One would be "Too slick for his own good." Another would be "Too oily looking. He has shifty eyes, like he's trying to hide something." This one was "a loser" and that one was "Too trashy."Once she had brought home a minister's son. Well-mannered, well-behaved, well dressed and her mother had said he was pretending to be something he wasn't.. The sight of blood, the smell, the taste, thetexture. He wanted it. He needed it~.From All-Might. From his teachers. From his friends. From his mother."NO!" he screamed, gritting his teeth and baring his new fangs. Hecouldn't do that to them! He respected them, looked up to them, lovedthem all!Which was why he had to cut them up, of course~."STOP IT!" he wailed, tears now running down his shifting cheeks. Morethoughts and images flashed in his mind. Cut them up~! Slice them open~!Fill the air. She had a check-out sheet hanging around her neck. The staff had carefully noted the preparation work they had done, ticking off boxes and adding annotations to a convenient ponygirl-shaped diagram in the center of the page. He took the sheet in his left hand and checked it against the ponygirl in front of him.Perhaps he would have to undergo some sort of therapy later, he thought. Deprogramming of tastes, was it even possible? He did not want to like what he was seeing.She was wearing a basic.