Desperate
Mara sat at the cafe across the street from the canvas, sipping on a latte feeling mesmerized by the powerful emotions of stress and anxiety that washed over him as frantic students and normal ongoing adults hurried past him in various forms of rush and distress.
A cafe was always the perfect place to go. It was a hotspot of a variable of emotions, and exactly what he needed when he was feeling incredibly owly from a bad day.
He had lost a soul. A soul that was perfectly ripe for the taking, and they had gone and in their state of perfect desperation, when they should have called out to him to make a deal. They had gone to a loved one for help.
It was the perfect foil because as soon as a human desired and went to help from another human was the moment that they couldn't be his playthings anymore.