Deepwood Weald with your sick head

Solomon wants to whine and cry like an absolute fucking child. This woman allows a stranger to feed with her. She is an Angel in his eyes, though he might has well been the devil in disguise; without knowing it of course. For the devil has settled within him. It controls him unwillingly and oftentimes his mind is foggy or he even completely forgets things all together. 

Still, his icy orbs light up and he takes a few tantalize steps towards her. He doesn’t want to hurt someone who has good for him, no matter how insignificant. 

So he eats his fill, sure to leave some for her. It’s her kill after all and she graciously allowed him some. He looks up to her as she asks his question. He wonders that himself. He’s wandering, trying to get a hold of his god damned self. He’s trying to rule in the thing that lives within, but he cannot. He has failed so many times to satisfy it, hoping it will cease its lust for blood, but it never does. It only takes and takes and takes; forcing him to do all the dirty work. 

He licks his chops of any blood or gristle. “I-“ He starts but doesn’t know what to say. His eyes meet her and he averts them momentarily. “I am trying to fix myself.” He says vaguely. “There’s something inside of me that is...invasive. It challenges my self control and I know not what to do with it.” He confesses as if she’d have all the answers in the world. Help me his baby blues scream.