Deepwood Weald the dirty [m]

With moving. The tree. Almost immediately his shoulders dropped as he eyed the scrawny man with sheer annoyance over the request. Abaddon was the type to prefer... less work during his daily activities. Energy for a loner was precious after all, and doing anything strenuous could spell death in the long run. At least... that was his excuse for being so damn lazy most of the days. 

As the disheveled man approached, Abaddon turned to face him completely now, his movements purposeful, smooth, calculated as he squared off with the stranger. Ah, and that was what he needed to hear to pique his interest. An open invitation to what he decided was "whatever he wanted" in general. His mouth salivated with the thought, with greed and craving that haunted him nearly every day. 

Well... I'll need to replenish energy after helping you move that thing... How about a bite? With a soft tilt of his head, he studied the young man intensely. Once it is done, give me some of your blood - and we will be square. Savvy? So now there was a new question that hung in the vampire's head; how desperate was he to see these plants?