It's not every day one walks down the street and spots a skeleton just hanging around, leaning against the wall as if he's got nothing better to do. It might be considered unusual for said skeleton to try to wave someone over, as though he might have something important to say. When that person being waved over is Carlisle Longinmouth, someone whose family was known for slaying beasts of both the living and undead variety, that's just asking for problems.

Most of said problems come from Carlisle himself as he eyes the cheerful skeleton leaning against the wall and tries not to panic. As opposed to the bony figure's relaxed stance -- almost friendly, the way he offers his hand for a shake -- Carlisle is as rigid as a man belonging in the grave, fear petrifying him the moment he locks eyes with the undead fellow. He's only dealt with necromancers and their minions a handful of times, and never has he seen one quite so... casual.

Carlisle looks over his shoulder, sure the skeleton must be motioning to someone else, then looks back. Still rooted, he points to his chest and nods, mouthing, Me?