Greatwater Lake Interview with the Vampire

@Euron

He does not remember coming this far inland in Teekon Woods. The large expanse of water is new to him, foreign. It is not grand enough to be considered even a relative to the sea further west, but he can see the majesty in it.

He is not the only one here, drawn by the large frozen body. Another wolf, desperate for some nourishment, seems distraught at the current state of the lake. He does not know as to why, but in his current mental state it would have made no difference. It does not take much for him to overpower the weakened wolf, blood splattering in that beautiful contrast on the snow. His Jaws remained clenched on the jugular, gulping with each weakening pulse of the wolf's blood.

He took to the northern border this time in search of new grisly things (not that these things were grisly to him). But his mind drifted to the rotted head from his last excursion, and of all the excitement that soon followed. For a moment he glanced easterly, ears twitching as he considered making another go at dragging that head back, but with a brief frown he decided against that. The head was too heavy. He wanted something easier.

Sneaking and sniffing along the borders, Euron was soon distracted by movement at the edge of a distinctly smooth and flat sprawl of land. He had never seen the lake before it froze and became snow covered itself. Disinterested in another wolf, the pup was about to resume his search when yet another wolf appeared and rushed the first.

Now this was interesting.

He leaned forward as he watched, such was the intensity of his attention on this spectacle. Northerly winds, cold and biting, brought him the metallic scent of fresh blood. His nose tipped upward and swept side to side trying to collect all he could of that smell. Euron wanted to be closer, and with a contemplative hum he surveyed what lay between him and the scene.

Not much.

Fearless and overwhelmingly curious, he did his best to sneak his way closer anyway, keeping his body low and zigzagging between what little brush and timber there was. He was well aware that he stood out like a sore thumb against the uninterrupted white of snow, but he banked on the other wolf being too distracted to notice him.

His senses are tunneled, singularly focused on the wolf's liquid life pumping into him. He begins to suck, to make up for the steadily slowing pulse. His breathing washes over the bloodbag's neck, gusts of hot breath letting more steam into the air around him, coloring it pale, milky white.

The body drops with what might be considered a sickening thud on the snow. Athanasius' pale body is drenched.

He looks at the small child near him. The boy is not afraid, drawn in by morbid curiosity. Athan's tongue washes over his dripping muzzle, studying the young boy for a moment before a spark of nostalgia flares within him. Do you want a taste?

He was spotted quicker than he had hoped. The boy crinkled his nose and and chewed his lip. He blamed the wind for shifting and giving him away, whether or not that was the truth. Euron was simply not in the mood for accepting that he was not yet the master stalker he saw himself as.

"Do you want a taste?"

Euron narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He had learned that wolves beyond the border were not always so friendly. But he was a fearless sort and worse, he liked how pleasurable fear was, and he had been fascinated by what the wolf was doing.

"Why not just be eating him?" He inquires as he takes a step forward to more closely inspect the gore of so much blood. Euron knew from his first adventure to the borders that wolves were no different from any other prey; composed of flesh that one could eat.

Happy New Year!

As he stared at the boy, his lips continually lapped at the wolf's neck, not letting the conversation distract him from his meal. He had said the words with a teasing lilt in his voice, but he was curious whether the young pup had the same proclivities that he had had when he was the pups age. A coy smile crossed his face as the pup stepped forward rather than back despite the apprehension in his eyes.

I am eating him, Athan chuckled. In a way, He licked his teeth, his saliva tinged pink as it dripped from his mouth. Blood carries all of the nutrients that the body uses. A wolf can live without a chunk of his flesh, but not without his blood,

Happy new year! :D

"New-trents." The boy hummed as his brows pinched in a focus stare at the blood and the wolf's lapping tongue. The latter part of the answer flew over his ears like a startled bird busting from the bushes. But he understood what eating was and after a few moments of consideration and observance he decided that eating is not what this wolf was doing.

"Nooo...You are drinking him." Euron stated calmly, raising his head and lifting his eyes like I proved you wrong. The purple-eyed stranger would have a hard time convincing Euron otherwise. He had seen eating. He had seen drinking. He had eaten and drank himself and this, most assuredly, was an act of drinking. He understood it to be different even than licking up the blood around one's face and meat.

"Ok you can go over there now," Euron gestured with a paw to some spot a few paces back from the dead wolf. "I will have a drink."

The child was still young enough to still be learning new words, which was far younger than he had been when he was turned. He did not know the effect of age during turning on an individual, or if it truly had one. A child's curiosity was different than a deep-setted desire. One of the things he had never truly discussed with his sire, only because it had never crossed his mind prior to this one moment.

Athan laughed at the boy's indignance. That is correct as well, He smiled back, even at the boy's glowering eyes. It's both, I suppose, He had never been called a Wolf-Drinker before, just a Wolf-Eater. The former implied that he liquidifed the wolves before consuming them, an ability he didn't think possible except in the realms of fiction and legend.

The strigoi laughed once more. The child had the arrogance and demeanour of someone used to getting their way, even from adults. An alpha's son, perhaps? It didn't matter, really. Athan obeyed, stepping away from the carcass, already contented for the moment. The blood shouldn't be thick right now, but it will be soon, He warns, but doesn't expect the queer child to listen.

He had no ambition or lust for power but it always felt good when others did as he said.

Still with his eyes on the striped wolf, Euron padded forward until his paws were sunk into the blood that had pooled into the snow, and he was overing over the torn jugular and poised to have a taste. His gaze never wavered as he lowered his snout and tentatively lapped at the warm flowing blood.

"Hm," Euron hummed, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he took a few more laps. "It..." he allowed himself a quick glance at the blood before locking eyes with the stranger again. "It tastes like blood."

Euron stepped back and shrugged. It was different because it was warm and not mixed with any other tastes — no fur, no skin, no fat, no meat — it was fine, but the boy did not fully see the appeal. He recalled his successes at hunting mice and recalled that he liked their warm blood, but he also liked the crunch of their bones and their dying squeals too.

"Do you not like chewing? Can you chew?" Euron inquired, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to know why the wolf liked to drink his kills. He felt that he was missing something about this whole experience.

"I like chewing."

Athan laughs cordially at the undescriptive conclusion the boy came to. Think deeper — blood tastes different in different bodies, He encourages him now, stepping closer to the curious child. I can chew, Athan smiles, baring his set of pink-stained ivories. I save chewing after drinking, The child seems to be on a different path than Athan's own; the full blown cannibal rather than a strigoi like himself. Perhaps he can indeed refine the boy's tastes, but simply being in his presence is interesting enough.

The boy thought on that for a moment. It did taste different than the mouse. But the boy was missing a whole other element to the experience. He had no notion that killing — and eating — another wolf was bad. He did not know that drinking blood in this manner was perverted. He had never been taught anything different. He had been left to his own devices in a dark forest that harbored all manner of wrong to those outside it, making all that right to him and those within. Later in life he might understand the nuances. For now he did not.

"It does not taste like mouse blood," he agreed, casually side-stepping to inspect the corpse from different angles, and to keep the other wolf at a distance. "So... wolf is being your favorite blood?" He asked. "Does this wolf taste like other wolves?"

Athan remained where he was, content to dictate to the boy from this distance. The child had made it clear on many occasions that this was his kill, which Athan was content to give to the boy. Different species taste different, yes, He hadn't found the taste of mouse blood very appealing. A quick snack, but far from an enjoyable meal. Yes and no, He hums, walking up towards the corpse. There is the base taste — all wolves have a similar taste to them, but there are other tastes. Athan sits closer to the young boy. Women taste different from men. Sick wolves — even those with the sniffles or something harmless — have a different taste. Scared wolves, happy wolves, angry wolves. They all have their unique flavors,

"Hmmmm..." Euron allowed this explanation to absorb into his mind. He was not one to simply take what was told to him for gospel. He was a critical thinker and applied it to what little he knew and contemplated how much sense it made. In this case he decided that what the striped wolf said sounded true and the boy bobbed his head.

"Maybe I am trying more wolves and more bloods sometime." He said. He felt it was time to move on then. "Thanks for the licks!" He chirped and without further adieu he turned and sprinted back toward Blackfeather Woods.