[Hannibal required shelter, sleep, and food. That was the only life he had ever known. Once upon a time, his food choices had been quite mundane. Normal. Things happened in life, though, terrible things in the snow that he had never been able to put out of his mind entirely. Things that were enough to drive a man to complete insanity and have him introduce cannibalism as part of his regular diet. Of course, he couldn't simply use it for his, and once he achieved the level of gourmet, what else was there to do with his delightful recipes other than share?

He would, of course, see how Shade would react to it. The man was a gourmet. How skilled would he be if he could get someone with that palate to believe they were eating what he said they were? He could do it.

At least, he could try. What would be the worst thing that could happen? The man moved shadows, from what Hannibal had seen. Surely a bit of murder wasn't so beyond him. And as for murder? Well. It had begun, though he'd never tell anyone straight up.]

I stopped by a saloon after seeing someone I've spoken to working behind the bar. [He's not going to say he spotted him spitting in a drink, of course not.] We talked, and he mentioned the poor working conditions. He'd cut his finger on a nail and the bandage did not look very clean. So I asked to see it, assured him I knew how to handle basic injuries, and when I touched it? I just moved my finger over it like I've done a thousand times before. It disappeared. It healed up without my having to do anything other than touch it. [If he's a little uncomfortable discussing it, it doesn't show. He is, in a way, because it's simply not heard of where he's from.] I suppose you could say it would be something like healing hands. It makes me wonder, then, if everything I may have been granted has to do with medical abilities, and how the others might manifest. I hardly think that qualifies as unique, though. What was unique about yours?