The Heartwood A Lover's Blight

The strigoi had glutted himself yet again, a young lupine who was close to finally succumbing to cold and hunger. Athan had given the child the gift of mercy. It had not been out of hunger that he made this particular kill, but he did not let the spurts go to waste either. He did not drink as much as he usually would, but found his mouth and chest stained nonetheless. Athan sat near the quickly cooling corpse, cleaning off his mouth and chest in a familiar rhythm.