Ridicio padded softly along the streets. He whistled softly, slowly, and almost silently. It was a favorite song of his and one that dated back very far. He held a blood rose in his right hand, twirling it gently. The thorns curled to protect the delicate flesh of his human form. It was always changing but he kept his will about himself. He maintained a pale complexion and gentle face. It was attractive but the cute boyish look was cut short by the piercing red eyes. He changed those too, but only when he needed too.
He sniffed the air, taking a deep breathe. "How sick," He begins gently, then smelling the rose. "This world has become. Slowly as it turns the corruption spreads faster. Even the nature has bent. Sad." He spoke quietly in a gently voice as he always did when talking to himself. At that point however he turned right down an alley way. The quiet song was loud off of the walls in the confined area.