RIDDLER? MORE LIKE RUDELER.

[deciphering]

Feeling the pressure already, kiddo? Utterly unsurprising, but I can’t really blame you. God forbid if our positions were reversed, this would be the point where I’d start squirming, too.

Guess this answers what an irritating child has in common with a skeleton – neither of you have any guts. Try hitting me up when you get some, then we’ll talk shop.

[edward nigma: dick for hire, ladies and gentlemen.]

Comments

[deciphering]

Happy to elaborate, my dear.

[a brief pause as he tries to think of an appropriate riddle before he finally comes up with one, steepling his fingers as he recites:]

Question: alive without breath, as cold as death, clad in mail never clinking, never thirsty, ever drinking - what am I?

[violintide]

[A pause, while she thinks.]

I would say water, except it doesn't really fit 'clad in mail'. [Another pause, more thinking.] Oh! A fish?