[The hand caressing his hair is pleasant if only because he senses the danger behind it. At any moment the fingers gently threading across his scalp might seize his throat. It's thrilling.]

Undead? Oh, no, not at all. I live, I breathe, my heart beats.

[He reaches up to pat Douman's shoulder.]

But the body I wear is not the one I was born in...

And no, I had naught at all to do with his death, if you can believe it. He was murdered by his cousin. A fate undeserved, some might say. Others would say 'twas very deserved indeed!