Barrow Fields Sometimes the unknown is good

She let go, his bluffs getting to her. He smiled, his baring teeth gleaming, still stained with her blood. She backed away, and he did not lunge at her, letting his wild appearance frighten her away. She hobbled, easy prey for him, but he was sated enough, both with the blood she had given him, and the sight of her. Fear was something he indulged in as well. It was enough for him to laugh, maniacal and insane, the noise reverberating across the shore until he was satisfied, and slunk away back into the dark.