"What is your name?" She continued. Astor, without turning, spat a globule of phlegm and blood that had been congealing in his throat. "Turn to me", Astor turned, unable to resist the voice that was so soothing and alluring. Yet still, he averted his face. "I want to help you", the voice implored. Still, Astor averted his gaze, but at last, he spoke. The voice was grave and deep like it had come from a man much older than himself.