Herbalists' Cache painted thus he slipped from the canvas

yes ofc!

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the dream floated there, just beyond his reach, and its evasion of full realization frustrated and pained armand beyond articulation. his brow furrowed, and he gave small moans from his blood-stained mouth, the scent of gore rising slowly with an inexorable power. he choked as it filled his nose, as the blood spurted from his throat — he felt himself beginning to suffocate in the thick incense of lifeblood.
the little catamite came awake, his jaws stretched wide in gasps for air, eyes staring unseeingly. as the moments ticked by, armand returned to himself, and saw he was not dying, and he felt a great shame that he had fought against what he so craved. or perhaps this desire was a lie. his eyes brought to him the sharpening vision of some looming presence, and there it was again, the scent of blood. his gorge rose, but he called all the same "show yourself" into the guttering dark.[/tr][/td][/table]