"Yeah, it's not a great job, really," said the prisoner. "But you know, it pays... okayish, so it is what it is."
"I knew a guy who had something like it across the river," said Sacripant with a nod. "So, I understand."
"Really?" said the prisoner, intrigued. "Well, that makes sense. I mean, it's a service everybody needs, at times."
"That's one way of looking at it," said Sacripant.
The prisoner coughed and looked around the room. "So... what happened to...?" he began.
"I killed him," answered Sacripant.
"Ahh." The prisoner nodded to himself. "Yes, I should have expected that. You are an impressively lethal-seeming fellow."
Sacripant chuckled. "You should see my fiancee."
"You're engaged?" said the prisoner. "Well, congratulations! Assuming you survive all this, happy times at your wedding! And if not consolation to your lady."
"Thank you for your kindness," said Sacripant. He looked at the door again. "He better come back with the food soon."
"Oh, I know! I'm starving," said the prisoner. "Man, every time I meet one of your Nightfolk, I wind up..."
"What was that?" said Sacripant, turning suddenly.
"I wind up hungry every time I meet a Nightfolk," said the prisoner. "Just weird, really."
"And when was the last time you met one of us?" asked Sacripant. "After all, we aren't exactly common here."
The prisoner blinked. "Ahh. Could you forget I said that, perhaps?" He smiled hopefully. "Please?"