The last time he'd been here, Daniel had looked worse for the ware. This time around? Like he's slept decently, the dark circles faint, and well fed. Still staring at the fire for a bit, but more so out of trying to figure out why this was familiar at first, and what the faint recollections of a cabin surrounded by woods was all about.
"I believe we were interrupted last time," Mortimer calls from beside the drink cart, pouring himself a stiff glass of whisky over ice. He seems to be wearing the same thing he wore when last they met. Again, as a kind gesture, Death pours a second glass and sets it on the table nearest Daniel.
"Now, where did we leave off...?" He asks, easing into one of the comfortable armchairs.
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In the end, he supposes it doesn't matter.
"Back here again..."
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"Now, where did we leave off...?" He asks, easing into one of the comfortable armchairs.