He's writing in some combination of Latin, English, and French so good luck making any of it out, but it makes a strange sort of sense to him.

"I am not certain what he is." He admits. "Other than large and ugly. And claiming to be immortal." He shrugs at this though, because he knows better. Or he thinks he does.

He glances up again though, seemingly randomly, as a thought occurs to him. "Not a murderer's bible, no. Is that what you think of me?" He asks curiously. She'd be right, of course.