Broken Antler Fen yviss, m'evelien vente cáelm en tel

Oh doesn't he know about trash being another man's treasure. To Abaddon, everyone was useful in one way or another... blood was blood after all. I wouldn't call forgotten food trash, simply left behind. It was a commodity after all this winter, with all the large prey scattered to the wind. Shoot, this one should feel lucky enough that Abaddon wasn't feeling desperate himself for something to eat or there would be something much more than just a pleasant conversation between strangers.

The vampire could be quite violent when hungry... the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all. Vengeance's blood and fury still coursed through his veins, no matter how much he tried to be different than that chocolate-coated demon.

As the other male turned to face the specter, Abaddon took note of his eyes first - just as Dandelion did with him. For such a plain-looking boy (like Abaddon himself, so many white wolves out there, too many to count) but the moment one took a look at their face, they became a whole new creature. One yellow, and one violet eye. How interesting.  You're the one to speak when it comes to eyes. He cooed softly with a coy grin. Such regal colours in your irises.

Oh but they aren't all red. Come closer, take a look, I promise I won't bite. He watched the boy with a half-lidded glance, taking only one step forward to try and coax the boy into feeling welcome to come and investigate the wraith's eyes. They were of both fire and ice, a ring of icy blue surrounded by the fire.