Ravensblood Forest Welcome To My Crib

"No, not at all." They continue in hushed tones. He strains to hear the snap of a broken twig, a soft gasp. His nostrils flare-- they search for pheromones, the sharp smell of fear and sweat, the sour smell of repulsion and anxiety. "Thank you, Donovan. I'll take you up on your offer." 

It could be true that Colin hasn't yet realised the magnitude of what he's agreed to: a new home, a new alliance, something else to tack onto his identity. He takes it with the same sense of detachment as a bank teller would cash in a check. In the dark, nothing seems real. 

If anything, he's a patient man. They continue, deeper into the woods, a pair of sharks that have just caught a faint taste of blood.