Oh no. You don't need more things to hold over my head.

[It is and isn't a joke. Alucard's Horizon is a quiet, melancholy woods with reason, where he could so easily return to the baroque splendor of his personal crypt. He's not found himself missing the elaborate furnishings over the year. That says something.

But the touch lingers a hair too long for the dhampir, and so with a second gentle squeeze, he lets go.]

And if you get me such a mat, I'm going to find a creative and insulting place in your home to put it instead.