Stavanger Bay Get you all alone

His eyes passed over the first to greet him. Pale like Aure, yet not. Too harsh. Brutal. Not holding any semblance to the soft-spoken girl he desired. He stared at her like a vacant husk, mouth agape as if he was shocked or about to reply. Until another came to the picture, speaking with an accent.
He loved an accent, something different from the usual slur of words that sung like music to his ears whilst dismantling their bodies.
He groaned softly, taking another limping step forwards.

"Aure. Healer." The words weren't connected, yet he spoke them as if they were. Perhaps Aure was a healer, he didn't care.
He wanted to be rid of pain. The pain of not owning Aure. Of his brutalized leg.
Surely he couldn't be harmful to the pair before him.

With a swooning step, he staggered to them, closer and closer. Looking as if he'd drop dead before them. He struck quickly, ivories lunging for the angry-wraith. Seeking to capture her in his grasp, seeking for dominance.
He forgot of the other, forgot he shouldn't. His whole body cursed and screamed to refrain but he was hungry...lusting. Lusting for the tang of blood that was not his own to trickle across his tongue.

He lunged for the white wretch, teeth seeking to latch onto her; but instead, he falls to the side, unbalanced by his leg. He stumbles, trying to keep upright with a groan to try and counter the action. An action that could've been mistaken for an accident.