Faolan doesn't ask aloud how Simon -- the ghost -- could identify a vampire in a lineup, when he can't remember what he looked like. Is he going to get up close and personal to smell him or something? But he doesn't ask. Some things are better not to.
"Smelled like campfire smoke," he repeats, going over it in his head for a moment. Did he mean literally, or figuratively? Campfire? The words are foreign enough to Faolan in concept that it takes him a moment to figure out just what other smells could fit the same description. "Like woodsmoke?"
A vampire that smells like woodsmoke... Faolan glances up at Natasha suddenly. "No other description. He didn't say whether this vampire might have looked like he could have been a squatter, did he? Like a vagrant?"
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"Smelled like campfire smoke," he repeats, going over it in his head for a moment. Did he mean literally, or figuratively? Campfire? The words are foreign enough to Faolan in concept that it takes him a moment to figure out just what other smells could fit the same description. "Like woodsmoke?"
A vampire that smells like woodsmoke... Faolan glances up at Natasha suddenly. "No other description. He didn't say whether this vampire might have looked like he could have been a squatter, did he? Like a vagrant?"