He wasn't human, although he looked it. He dressed the same, though sometimes oddly; spoke in familiar rhythms and accents. He even mingled when temperament allowed. But there was danger in mingling, not every species welcomed his brand of friendship; a charade flavored with wit, and charm, and lies, and the damming dash of immortality. He touched them in passing, little lives speeding by faster than he would admit. She was here, then gone. Then another, and another, all lost to the one thing he couldn't control, couldn't thwart, couldn't save them from.
He wasn't human, yet they didn't care.