Chapter Text
The break of dawn was usually when forest birds began to sing their song; often timid at first, their performance eventually evolved into a full-blown orchestra and then – into a cacophony, coming to a crescendo as the sun climbed over the horizon. Their melody was rarely finished by the time the sun’s gentle rays started creeping in through the windows, thus becoming a useful warning.
Neuvillette closed the living room’s thick velvet curtains shut, proving himself as an unwelcoming host to said sun’s warm glow. With it, he was once more enveloped by darkness, buying himself just a bit more time before he lay to rest.
Indeed, it was right around his bedtime – he’d already changed into his nightgown even, though his long, silver hair still demanded some attention.
He sat down at the ornamental vanity table stood in the corner – one of many. Unlike most people, he wasn’t exactly worried about having too many mirrors around the house, as long as the pieces they were embedded into were beautiful enough to keep.
And yet, he still caught himself searching for his reflection. Every time, without fail. Even after four hundred years.
Such was the foolish fate of a vampire.
Of course, it was a futile endeavor. All kinds of man-made metals as well as glass sternly refused to behold his image; that was not the case for water, but as it happened, Neuvillette had forgotten to refill the bowl. As such, he merely sighed and reached for the hairbrush. He was rather heavy-handed with it – it was, admittedly, difficult to care for pulling out hair whilst well aware it would grow back immediately, whether he wished for it to or not.
Still, he found no pleasure in spending his limitless time untangling knots, and so, once it’d been tamed, he began braiding it neatly, in no rush.
By the time he finally headed upstairs, the birds had mostly gone silent.
It could’ve been that his senses were lying to him, but it truly felt as though in the past few months, his gait had started to echo louder in the cold, empty corridors of his manor house. Also, each time he took a step, a small cloud of dust would rise from the aged rugs beneath his feet. It’d been a while since he’d cleaned, as shameful as it was to admit. Since it was one of his non-working decades, Neuvillette had more than enough time to take care of household chores, however... oh, how he loathed doing such menial tasks by himself! Besides, he wouldn’t be hosting any guests in the foreseeable future. Was there a real reason to feel ashamed, then?
It’d be a worry for another day, he decided; he wasn’t going to run out of days anytime soon.
Ah... the first floor was certainly quiet that day, he thought as he stopped at his favorite bedroom’s entrance. So quiet it was deafening. Once his steps had ceased, all that remained was the ambient ringing in his ears.
Was he breathing, still? Was his venom-filled heart beating like that of a human...? He... seemed to have forgotten, or he had long tuned those noises out. Both were entirely unnecessary.
The household could definitely use a bit of cheerful ruckus. It might’ve been high time to think about getting another animal companion – as long as he could find one that didn’t run from him – he devised. Raising them from infancy usually helped, although...
Upon entering the room, Neuvillette’s eyes wandered towards the covered window – out of habit, really.
All of his estates were right about to run out of ample burial grounds. The longest he’d ever managed to keep a pet alive was a certain resilient white cat which had made it to twenty-six; others were rarely this lucky. He had since promised himself to give up on small critters. Putting up with such a short lifespan was largely... unsustainable.
But it was either that, or…
His clawed finger traveled to his mouth – perhaps a more unconventional animal would fit the bill this time around...? Something exotic, by any chance?
His old acquaintance from the eastern coven, a vampire woman named Ineffa, had recently taken a trip to the New World. In her letter, she’d mentioned encountering all sorts of interesting local birds that could reportedly live up to ninety years old. That sounded vastly more suited to his lifestyle.
He should consider getting himself a parrot then, he concluded before crawling into his casket. White and gold, and only one year old – it was without a doubt the best-kept object on the entire floor.
After taking a moment to relish in the softness and comfort, Neuvillette pulled the lid down, without closing it all the way, as per usual; each of his coffins and caskets would always have custom stay hinges installed, as per the owner’s special request.
He... preferred it that way.
And as a new day dawned on the small seaside town of Fontaine, Neuvillette began his slumber.
***
Much to the vampire’s dismay, he couldn’t sleep very well that day. He kept waking up every hour or so, tossing and turning, finding himself with a headache each time he opened his eyes again.
Unfortunately, that had been the case for the past few years. It wasn’t like he was having nightmares – in fact, Neuvillette hadn’t had a single dream in at least a century. He could only suspect one potential cause for his insomnia was that ever since he’d officially retired from his work as a law advisor in this town, he didn’t have much to do during the night anymore. It was indeed rather difficult to sleep soundly without having spent his energy on anything beyond the occasional hunt.
The town of Fontaine was small – there was hardly anything to do in it after dusk, when most shops and window shutters closed. It was no metropolis with operas, theaters, or cabarets on every other street corner. However, Neuvillette liked it there, at least for the time being. He’d already done his time in the capitals of the world, and he was in no hurry to visit his other residences across the country. He had his own reasons for staying here, anyhow.
Admittedly, there was hardly anyone but himself to blame for his recent lack of activity. At times, his boredom would become so dire he yearned for working alongside humans again, but alas – he’d long learned and accepted that mingling must’ve been done cyclically. There were only so many decades that a middle aged lawyer could appear... middle aged for.
It was quite alright, still. He wasn’t that lonely. He was not necessarily happy, either, but... it was not yet his time to end his curse.
When Neuvillette’s eyes opened for the fifth or so time, after he’d been disturbed awake by the loud noise of the rain outside, he finally decided to call it quits and give up any and all sleeping attempts. His body had grown stiff inside the casket, even more so than its target user’s would.
A quick and careful peek through the curtains confirmed the rainy weather. Although it was more akin to a gentle drizzle, the entire sky had been obscured by dense, gray clouds, making early afternoon appear dark as night, and the lack of wind accompanying them suggested they wouldn’t leave anytime soon, either.
“Might as well.” He muttered to himself resignedly. He was barely excited about leaving the silent, empty manor, though not any less so than he was about doing pretty much anything else at that point. As such, he got himself dressed, making sure not to leave even an inch of skin exposed – from gloves down to the top hat he reluctantly shaded his face with, and then grabbed one of his many umbrellas, heading out and towards the town’s square.
He did bring some pocket change along with him, though he wasn’t exactly in need of anything in particular. That said, modern technology always managed to surprise and amuse him. Humans’ inventive endeavors were far more interesting to observe than the vampires’ meticulous yet stagnant alchemical methods, although a couple of his long-distance friends would disagree.
Much time had passed since he’d last gone out for a stroll during the day, he thought. Must’ve been during the winter, months prior, when the days were short and rather grim. It was his favorite season for a reason. Conversely, the spring had been awfully sunny thus far, keeping him locked in and prone to cabin fever.
It was therefore a rare privilege to be able to admire the lush greenery of the forest that his manor was located in. Typically, when he wasn’t looking at it through the window, he was either forced to see the trees and bushes at their most withered and hideous, or completely shrouded by darkness. Of course, his night vision surpassed that of a regular human, but it had to be said – it did next to nothing for verdure’s aesthetic appeal.
The rain made every scent so much stronger, too.
Although it might’ve been unfitting for an obligate carnivore like himself, Neuvillette was quite fond of the earthly scents of soil and grass. He always had been, and thankfully, the close vicinity of the ocean assured the area never lacked in humidity.
Those, naturally, were far from the only scents he could pick up on as he made his way down the forest path; he sensed the presence of all the different species of animals he’d been preying on for generations as well as the many traces of humans who’d passed through the woods in recent days. Amidst them, he recognized the distant hint of something familiar – a person, he assumed; a person who must’ve been visiting the forest frequently over the past few years, haunting him constantly despite the fact that their paths were yet to cross.
Neuvillette couldn’t help but smile to himself, not knowing why. Few things could stir up a sense of wonder and mystery in an old vampire as jaded as him, and yet, he did find himself curious about that lone forest dweller. Indeed, their scent was rarely accompanied by another; since its bearer rarely approached his decrepit manor too closely however, there could’ve been mistakes in Neuvillette’s identification. Truth be told, there was nothing exceptional about the scent itself, either. It was human, and that was about all there was to it. Most likely, it belonged to some sort of a poacher or a homeless hermit – an awfully unremarkable individual one way or another.
Even so, the fact that he’d never run into this person in all those years made Neuvillette feel as if he’d been unknowingly dragged into a game of cat and mouse. He’d already promised himself that if he ever came across this stubborn lone wolf, he’d make them one of his rare human trophies.
He didn’t relish in attacking humans if there was no such necessity, but everyone deserved a hearty treat once in a while, or so Neuvillette believed.
In a way, however, he’d grown attached to the presence of this scent. Perhaps in some twisted manner, it was comforting for him after it’d been there so consistently for years. Getting to smell it each time... almost felt like receiving a letter from an overseas friend whose face he’d never seen.
But as Neuvillette left the forest and stepped into the town, he was promptly hit with a brand new, almost overwhelming wave of scents that’d been exacerbated by the rain.
Not all of them were pleasant, but without a sliver of doubt, each of them was equally fascinating. In fact, he was more partial to taking those in than looking at people’s faces these days.
To his surprise, the high street was far from empty, despite the weather. It would seem that the people of the town grew more and more resilient with each passing season. He thought he’d already learned not to underestimate humans; the majority of his vampire kin did, and it nearly always ended poorly.
Although human senses were much inferior compared to those of vampires, it seemed that the intense scents the rain carried could not escape their curious noses, either. As Neuvillette’s adventurous spirit led him towards the town market, which looked a little worse for wear under the gray sky, his own sensitive nose was assaulted by an onslaught of various local street foods. That day, freshly made sausage-filled galettes paired with warm apple cider were undoubtedly the most popular, so much so that a lengthy queue had formed in front of the stall.
Despite them being the region’s signature dish, Neuvillette had never tried a galette; they smelled rather... greasy, as did the nearby shop’s fried potatoes and pastries. He could, in theory, see how such hearty dishes would be especially tempting for humans in the cold weather, though he’d never yearn for those himself. Truth be told, he retched at the thought of all the otherwise perfectly fine arteries that’d end up getting clogged by such... delicacies. Plaque, blood clots... eugh. He had to stop before he made himself sick in a public place.
Neuvillette was very much a purist when it came to his food.
Indeed, blood was what he found to be the most tempting, and it came as no surprise to him that he could sense small hints of it all throughout the crowd gathered around the square. From minor scratches and incisions to healing injuries, lesions, chapped lips, nosebleeds, and discharges of many kinds – there were endless manners in which the human body could bleed, some more aesthetically appealing than others, but all noticeable to him as he passed people by. Thankfully, Neuvillette was no rabid fledgling, and had more self control than stooping low enough to attack someone over a paper cut. Even so, he too found himself lured, not unlike the gourmands lining up for fresh galettes; he realized that he was feeling quite peckish, and that it’d been a while since he’d had something more satisfying than a rabbit.
In an odd twist of fate, right as he thought of it... he could smell just that: a rabbit. A few rabbits, in fact, as well as a boar, a deer, and then also a collection of some substantial, fatty ocean fish. Tragically, all of them seemed to be already dead, though... not yet fully expired.
Of course, any vampire would know dead blood was a no-go, though that rule had always been more applicable to humans than their cheap animal substitutes, which weren’t as poisonous, but not especially nourishing, either. Meat itself could not be relied on for nutrition, but it could serve as... sustenance in times of need or if one desperately wished to diversify their diet. Again, Neuvillette was a bit of a purist, though he could not refuse himself some fresh seafood once in a while. More importantly, however, all that game he smelled had evidently come from the very woods he’d just left.
It was good meat, too, despite being carcass, he noted; good for him, anyhow: it had not been drained or otherwise stripped or prepared, but instead left intact as nature intended. And it’d appear it had been hunted rather recently...
Yes, he had to locate that stall posthaste, he decided. Though not many vampires would willingly choose animals whilst surrounded by humans, for some inexplicable reason, at that moment, the scent of them was... irresistible.
Much like a freshly fried sausage rolled into a hot galette.
Ultimately, it was at the very end of the street, tucked into a corner, where he found a lonely stall stacked with what appeared to be a slightly odd combination of venison and seafood. Whilst its remote location was understandable – one wouldn’t exactly wish to smell dead animals whilst purchasing flowers – it seemed far from unpopular, and Neuvillette had to wait a couple of minutes for the other customers to disperse before curiously approaching.
And curious it was, indeed; amidst crates of dead-eyed fish and bloodied woodland critters strung from hooks atop the stall stood the... Well, Neuvillette assumed her to be the stallholder, only it was rather surprising to learn that the girl was just barely able to peek over the counter.
She was a child. A young one, at that – maybe twelve years old, at most, though she could’ve passed as much younger with her petite build.
Come to think of it, it wasn’t terribly unusual for the working class to make use of their children’s aid, he thought upon getting over the initial shock. That said... Again, amidst the blood and gore of it all...
Perhaps for the first time since becoming a vampire, Neuvillette felt... squeamish.
Truth be told, it was the first significant emotion he’d felt in a long while, which was impressive in itself.
“Good afternoon! Can I help you, Monsieur?” The young girl greeted him enthusiastically almost as soon as he entered her field of view, thus putting an end to his silent wonderings.
Could she help him...? Now, that was a perplexing question.
When Neuvillette took some hesitant steps towards the market stall, he was suddenly caught off guard; within seconds, he found himself distracted once more, catching a much unexpected whiff of the familiar scent he thought he’d left behind in the forest.
At first, he was convinced he must’ve been mistaken, his senses betraying him again – but alas, there was no mistake to be made: it was the very same scent he’d known for years, only more intense than ever, and he doubted that was solely the effect of the rain.
But... at a hunter’s stall, of all places...?
No, as he thought about it longer, he realized that it actually made perfect sense; there was hardly any evidence to try and disprove that the mysterious person who’d been sneaking around his neck of the woods could’ve been a hunter all along. It was a theory he’d considered many times in the past, however...
He looked down at the small figure across the counter.
It seemed more than unlikely that the person in question was this child – a girl with a bouncing pair of blue pigtails, staring at him expectantly with her big, raspberry-colored eyes. As he tried to take in her scent, only mildly distracted by the whirlwind of other aromas around him, Neuvillette eventually realized that the sweet waft of apple blossom and wildflowers had little to do with the forest dweller he’d been searching for.
Still, the latter’s scent lingered. It was present everywhere around him, including the dead animals, which by all means should be more appealing for a vampire.
Who else would it be, then? The person who’d hunted the game? This young lady’s guardian? Or a former patron, perhaps...?
“Oh, pardon my prolonged silence, young lady.” He finally replied, tipping his hat ever-so-slightly. “I’m afraid this old man needs to browse for a while before making up his mind.”
Each sentence carefully rehearsed over the centuries, nonchalantly crafted word by word in order to create the image of a most well-mannered and attentive gentleman, yet nevertheless always uttered without an ounce of passion.
Passion was not generally something vampires were capable of feeling in any capacity, or so Neuvillette believed based on his most recent experiences.
“Hehe, no problem! Take as long as you need, Monsieur, but do keep in mind we typically close up right before tea time.” The young clerk graced him with a warm smile that seemed rather genuine, surprisingly enough, unlike those so often offered by adults. “Besides, you probably don’t want to stay out in this weather for too long... It’d be quite a shame if you caught a cold!”
Without planning to do so, Neuvillette reluctantly returned her smile, though his rendition of it was considerably more frigid than hers.
It’d been a long time since he’d last interacted with a child – a true one, that is. He certainly had a few acquaintances that didn’t look too different from this little miss, but hadn’t been calling themselves children for longer than he’d been walking this earth.
Those were, in fact, the most miserable kinds of vampires that existed.
“Ah, I don’t particularly mind this weather, to be honest. I do better with the rain than I do with the scorching sun.” He replied. It didn’t escape Neuvillette’s attention that the girl who was so concerned about this well-dressed old man’s health herself stood under a leaky linen roof in a rather measly-looking cloak. He then thought back to what she’d told him, paying particular attention to the word ‘we’: “Mademoiselle, I don’t believe I’ve ever been to this stall before. It’s quite curious how it has escaped me. Pray tell, is this a family business of some sort? Is it owned by your parents?”
“Parents?” She chuckled, somewhat troubled, but didn’t lose her pep for a moment. “No, not at all! I don’t have any of those. I’m just an assistant. Wriothesley is the owner.”
To speak of personal tragedy with such frivolity – it was almost as if she was a seasoned vampire herself, Neuvillette thought. Either way, his attention was piqued.
“Wriothesley...” He muttered the name under his breath. Unique as it was, it didn’t ring any bells. “Is he your brother, then...?”
“Nope! He’s my boss! In fact... he’s the one who does all the hunting and fishing to supply our top notch, fresh and delicious meats!” The girl pointed proudly at her wares, her face becoming even brighter than before. “He goes out almost every day to make sure we carry the best stuff in the whole wide town!”
Quite the amusing little thing she was; so young, and yet already so knowledgeable in the manipulative art of driving sales. She must’ve been as astute as they come.
More importantly, however, Neuvillette seemed to have solved the years-long mystery of his invisible forest companion’s identity. By pure chance, nonetheless! It seemed that life still had some wonders in store even for a creature as decrepit as him.
“A hunter... of course.” He continued to hum to himself as his hand trailed down the large body of a dead doe hanging on the side, inspecting it closely.
In hindsight, stalking his prey explained why this ‘Wriothesley’ would occasionally cross into a vampire’s territory without staying long enough for the two of them to meet. Neuvillette’s house was quite far from the town itself, rarely inviting unwanted human visitors, though distance was hardly a concern for the forest’s animal inhabitants, especially those running from a rifle. Any experienced hunter would’ve quickly noticed that the area surrounding his manor had already been claimed by someone or something, so he wouldn’t have made it his regular hunting ground, either. As such, Wriothesley had been nothing more than a passerby.
It was a pity, anyhow – having learned this new information, Neuvillette was hoping to cross paths with the man sooner rather than later.
“I ought to command his craftsmanship, indeed.” He then added, trying not to let his eyes linger on the ever-tempting, oozing wound on the animal’s head. “It would appear that these have been taken out by quick, precise shots, thus granting them a painless death without wasting any of their precious blood...”
Before he could say a word too many, he managed to catch himself just in time, and then looked towards the stallholder, who was nodding along enthusiastically:
“Mhm, mhm! He’s the best one around! No one kills quite like Wriothesley.”
Neuvillette raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Forgive me for asking, I can’t help but wonder: are you not in any way... frightened, being surrounded by carcasses at such a young age...? As far as I’m aware, children usually prefer to keep and play with their pet rabbits rather than hang them up on meat hooks...”
“Hmm? Well, yes, I do like bunnies! Quite a lot, actually! Wriothesley even said he’d let me keep a few in the garden once I’m older. Umm... only the living ones, though. These are dead, Monsieur.” Her cheerful expression slowly faded into a confused and, frankly, fairly judgmental one as she crossed her arms. The look that followed appeared to be silently questioning the soundness of her customer’s mind. “S-Sorry, I’m not sure I know what you mean, Monsieur. There’s nothing scary about them – they’re not going to come alive and attack me! They’re gone. We’ll all be gone one day... that’s just how Mother Nature works.”
Despite the old man’s probing, she stood completely unshaken; one would’ve thought the blood trickling down onto the counter from the freshly hunted game was about as ordinary to her as the raindrops surrounding them.
In all honesty, Neuvillette was both surprised and somewhat captivated by the young lady’s wisdom, though it didn’t take long for his bitter cynicism to take over. This poor child couldn’t have known that some degenerate creatures even Mother Nature herself rejected. Not everyone had the privilege to be ‘gone’ for good... and indeed, sometimes even those who were once thought to be gone could return with full vengeance against humanity they were no longer a part of.
“How interesting. You don’t often see such a pragmatic approach among children your age, Mademoiselle.”
“I just say it how it is! If we all feared death so badly we ran from it, we’d simply starve in winter! If we don’t eat the rabbit, the wolf will. And then there will be sooo many wolves, they’ll take over the entire village!” The girl shook her head, noticeably more concerned than before. “And... I do like rabbit stew. And fish, too! Oh! May I recommend some of this cod? It really is so fresh it was still swimming this morning... hehe.”
Not a single missed opportunity – as soon as Neuvillette left her an opening, she went straight back to advertising!
Somewhat hesitantly, he looked down at the stall’s selection again, riddled with a suspicion that unless he bought something, he could fully forget about questioning the girl further, and thus learning more about her elusive ‘boss’.
He didn’t have much of a use for those meats. It was true that they were fresh; if he really insisted, he could try and extract some of the last sips of blood from them before the animals went completely stiff. Otherwise, he could treat himself to some raw meat... unlike most other human foods, it was the one solid substance he’d actually be able to digest – but at what cost?
Well, he did enjoy the taste of fish blood, he had to admit, even if it wasn’t necessarily the most substantial or healthy treat in the world. He had a weakness for the sea and all that it contained, but alas, he couldn’t exactly go diving often with his... vampire predicament.
“Might I ask why do you keep all your game intact? In this day and age, shops typically sell ready-to-cook cuts of meat, and the fish come gutted as well. You choose to leave all the preparation work to your customers... why?” He asked.
“Well, Wriothesley’s just a hunter! He can’t manage to be a butcher and furrier too on top of it! They do buy from us sometimes, though...” The girl pondered, tapping her finger against her chin. “We charge a little more and in return, we give our customers the whole thing so that they can pick and choose whichever parts they want! Honestly... we just don’t have the time to do all the prep work ourselves. Hunting alone already takes Wriothesley half of the night and the whole morning... I-I wanted to learn how to clean our game up to help him, but he said he wouldn’t let me play with sharp knives until I’m grown...” She sighed.
“That is an approach you don’t very often see nowadays... It allows for even the city dwellers to stay in touch with nature, no matter how gruesome and unsightly it might be, in an age when everything has been so blandly... industrialized. I approve.” Neuvillette mused to himself, not really expecting the child to understand his outdated point of view, before pointing at the fish crate. “I shall take three of these cods, then. And also... ah, let us be bold today. I’ll take a rabbit as well, why not.”
The girl’s round face lit up as brightly as though she’d been offered an entire bag’s worth of holiday presents.
“Of course, Monsieur! Right on it! You won’t regret your choice!”
Without wasting a moment, she quickly grabbed the requested fish and put them down onto the counter and then, much to Neuvillette’s bafflement, tried to climb it, unable to reach the high-hanging rabbit. He mercifully chose to help her before one of her tiny, muddy boots could step on a cod head.
When the girl reached underneath the counter to pack his purchase, however, the usually stoic vampire was abruptly startled by her loud gasp:
“Did... something happen?” He asked, rather unimpressed.
“Oh, no! T-The packing paper! It’s... It’s gotten all wet from the rain! Gah... that darn seller, I knew he was up to something shady! He said it’d be water resistant, but... either he lied, or this weather is just too much.” She straightened up, visibly angered, crumpling a sheet of soggy brown paper in her hands. Between this and the muddy stains all over her clothes, she made for a somewhat heart-wrenching image; unfortunately for Neuvillette, he thought himself to be heartless, so rather than reassuring the girl that the paper problem was no big deal, he simply continued to stand there, staring at her awkwardly.
“Um...”
“W-Wait one moment, Monsieur! Please! You mustn’t carry all these items by hand! There should be some more dry paper in our cart... If the crate hasn’t started leaking, that is...” She added quietly, then turned around with the swiftness of a spinning top and took off.
If Neuvillette were to be entirely honest, he probably could carry all of the items he’d requested in his bare hands. His vampiric strength was nothing to scoff at, although walking around with an armful of meat would very likely attract a few concerned looks. If there was one thing he didn’t enjoy, it was being the center of attention. As such, he was left there to wait in the rain, strengthening his grip on the umbrella’s handle.
Why was he doing all this, again? Ah, right. The forest dweller...
“Whoa there, what’s the hurry, Sigewinne? Don’t run around like this or you’re going to slip!”
All of the sudden, Neuvillette heard a second voice – a masculine one, for a change. A curious peek beyond the stall’s support post then revealed to him the sight of a dashing young man who must’ve just come from around the corner. Behind the man stood a large wooden cart full of supplies, which was exactly where the little girl was headed.
The girl, whose name was apparently ‘Sigewinne’, passed the man, shouting only “Paper!” as she dashed past him, soon disappearing behind a building as well. The man, on the other hand, shook his head disapprovingly:
“I told you not to leave the stall! People are going to steal!”
They said it was better to be safe than sorry, and while the man probably spoke from his own experience, Neuvillette found it rather difficult to imagine anybody running off whilst carrying an entire dead deer. Then again, human greed knew no bounds...
Before he could delve deeper into one of his many misanthropic musings, however, Neuvillette was instantaneously distracted by the familiar scent he was hit with right as the other man approached him.
This time around, there was not a trace of doubt to be had: it must’ve been him – Wriothesley, the brazen mortal who had the audacity not only to repeatedly trespass on a vampire’s territory, but also tease him with his warm blood’s scent over and over again throughout the years, worsening Neuvillette’s craving as he desperately sought to satisfy himself with animals’ blood, instead.
There he was. His imaginary pen pal. His… ‘old friend’.
“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize we had a customer. Eh, that Sigewinne... Anywho! Hello, Monsieur.” Wriothesley’s mouth twitched in an attempt to form something resembling a smile; it was a much more forced expression compared to that of his employee, nonetheless. “Do you need any assistance?”
He wasn’t entirely sure what had compelled him to do so, but Neuvillette felt a sudden urge to straighten up his posture. His body went so stiff in fact, for a solid minute, the only moving part of it were the eyes, curiously examining the man standing across the counter.
Wriothesley was a tall, well-built, and a relatively handsome young man, although on second thought – using the term ‘young’ might’ve been quite subjective. From a single glance, Neuvillette found it difficult to estimate his age: the youthful, bright, a tad scarred but nevertheless noble face was telling him ‘twenty’, in stark contrast to his wet, once solely jet black hair, now peppered with enough gray streaks to suggest ‘forty’. In the end, he made the decision to place him somewhere in the middle, and thus settled on ‘thirties’.
Not that it mattered too much; next to him, all humans may as well have been clueless adolescents, and Neuvillette personally knew a few vampire masters who’d make him seem like a toddler in comparison.
Either way, Wriothesley had made a decent first impression on him. Should he give him a little more, he may even derive some entertainment from this whole scent-chasing ordeal, he thought.
Though the hunter’s pale blue eyes had without a doubt seen their fair share of bloodshed, they maintained a lively spark in them. In fact, the entire manner in which Wriothesley carried himself had an air of gentleness and poise to it. For someone who was reportedly ‘good at killing’, Neuvillette failed to sense an ounce of ferocity in that man and frankly – he found it very odd. Wriothesley was nothing like any of the hunters he’d ever met in the past, nor did he resemble the other townsfolk. There was something… foreign about him.
Then again, looking at Neuvillette, many would also find it hard to fathom the ease with which he could tear through a man’s throat. What mattered the most about his new acquaintance was that he looked like his blood had the potential to be absolutely delightful. It was a pleasant surprise, considering that besides its persistent familiarity, his scent was otherwise objectively unremarkable.
Well…
…That was what he used to tell himself, at least – now that he saw the one it belonged to, however, the vampire’s interest in it was increasing at a rapid pace.
“Assistance...? Hm, not necessarily.” Neuvillette finally snapped back to reality, gracing the other with a reply, and gestured towards the items on the counter. “I’ve already made my choice, and now I’m merely waiting for your charming little helper to finish wrapping it up.”
“I see... Wait, so she just left you hanging like that?” Upon noticing the remains of wet and crumpled paper Sigewinne had discarded, Wriothesley let out a deep sigh. “Heavens, have mercy on that girl...”
“It’s quite alright. I’m hardly in a hurry.” He said. The concept of ‘hurrying’ had truly become so foreign to him since he’d begun his latest period of unemployment, it sounded like a word borrowed from another language when uttered out loud. “Although, if you’re being haunted by your conscience, why not placate your customer with a brief chat while we wait...? I’m assuming you must be Monsieur Wriothesley. The girl has spoken of you extensively.” He explained, seeing the other’s immediate confusion.
Wriothesley crossed his arms, avoiding his gaze; he looked a bit flustered. “Sigewinne? Talking about me? Yikes, I’m not sure I’d like to know what she might’ve said.”
Neuvillette’s inner socializing guide suggested that he chuckled at the self-depreciating remark, but unfortunately, he seemed unable to muster anything up, resulting in an awkward clearing of his throat, instead.
“There isn’t much to worry about, I promise. For one, she spoke very highly of your hunting abilities which, upon examining these...” He turned towards the other wares, not too keen on eye-contact, either, “... I must agree with. I can tell you must have years of experience under your belt.”
“Hah, I’ve... I’ve been doing this for a while, I guess. Got introduced to the rifle pretty early on.” Wriothesley mumbled, offering him all the delights of watching a man squirm after receiving an unexpected compliment. “Though I’ve only started running this stall a few years ago. Do you... also hunt, Monsieur?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact... I do go on hunts, from time to time.” Much as he wanted to, Neuvillette was unable to hold back an unusual hint of smugness in his voice. “Recreationally, that is.”
Within moments of him stating that, however, Wriothesley’s bashful expression suddenly changed, and his dark brows furrowed.
“Huh... That’s odd. I don’t recall the two of us ever meeting before. And here I thought I was already familiar with every hunter and fisherman in this town. You know, Monsieur, these woods might be as vast as an abyss, but we still try not to trespass into each other’s hunting grounds without a need.” He explained, clearly unaware of the sheer irony behind his words. “Did you only move in recently?”
Right off the bat, he seemed as quick-witted and observant as his assistant, if not even more so, Neuvillette assessed; he also recalled the other’s prior wariness when it came to protecting his stall. Suspicious of everyone and everything around him, it seemed – an admirable trait for those with an inkling of self-preservation. It had been a while since Neuvillette had an opportunity to converse with someone he couldn’t take for granted. What a rejuvenating sensation – the hunter was rapidly earning his respect.
“I don’t believe we’ve met before, either. My name is Neuvillette. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He extended his free hand, which the other promptly shook. Admittedly, it gave him a minor jolt – it was easy to forget just how warm human bodies were, especially in that day’s chilly weather, which apparently daunted Wriothesley none. If anything, however, the handshake helped thwart whatever budding suspicions Neuvillette might’ve had about the uncanny feeling the man was giving him. Unique as he was, he really was just a regular human.
Unique was also the way in which Wriothesley’s eyes lingered on their hands, even long after they had parted. The vampire was quite sure he wouldn’t have felt the coldness of his skin through the gloves he was wearing, thus... the reasoning was beyond him.
“As for your question...” Neuvillette started again, hoping to prevent what was sure to become an uncomfortable silence, “Truth be told, hunting is mostly a thing of the past for me now. That said, I have lived in this town for many years. I don’t go out very often, however, and sometimes I must leave for extended periods of time to recuperate at a sanatorium... You see, I have what some would call a... weak constitution. It just so happens that my symptoms are only worsened by staying in intense sunlight for too long, so it is not often that I get to enjoy peaceful walks like this.”
He wasn’t sure why he chose to sell him that story – one of the many he had in his vast repertoire of lies. Wriothesley didn’t ask for it. Despite the fact that unlike many of his peers, Neuvillette was not able to read human thoughts, he could instead pick up on and sometimes share their emotion – and Wriothesley’s was a great sense of caution that overshadowed whatever curiosity he might’ve had about his strange new patron. By that point, the vampire had already realized he wasn’t talking to a fool; whilst dealing with a mind like his, it was pejorative to have it distracted by providing some dots to connect, no matter how false, as it was much preferable to leaving it to its own devices. This time around however, Neuvillette didn’t even try too hard to be creative – perhaps in some way, he also wished to challenge him and see whether Wriothesley could stumble upon the correct trail on his own, the skilled hunter that he was.
“No sun, eh? I dread to even imagine. Then again, it does seem like the features you’ve been blessed with are sort of... delicate.” As he said it, Wriothesley performed a gradual inspection of his own, starting with Neuvillette’s pinkish-lilac eyes and their only barely noticeable slanted pupils, silver hair, unbefitting of his youthful appearance, and finally, his skin – though hidden in the umbrella’s shadow, it didn’t take a magnifying glass to notice how ghastly and pale it was, so much so it was almost translucent. “Heh, I apologize, Monsieur. I hope that wasn’t too impertinent of me.”
“Not at all. In fact, I’ll choose to interpret that remark as a compliment.” Neuvillette replied, suddenly remembering how much he’d grown to dislike contrived pleasantries. He’d learned how to act with his voice fairly well, but when it came to his face... more often than not, his kind words had to be accompanied by a stern, apathetic visage. Wriothesley, on the other hand, seemed happy as a clam, again – for reasons unknown. “Unfortunately, it is due to those delicate features of mine that I’ve been forced to stay cooped up at my residence for entirely too long. I wasn’t even aware of this lovely stall’s existence. Pity, is it not? I wasn’t originally planning to buy anything today, but as you can see, your assistant is very persuasive.”
Coincidentally, right as he said that, the assistant in question made herself known again, shouting loudly from the supply cart’s direction:
“P-Please don’t leave, Monsieur! One moment! I’ll be right there, I just need to... open... this... crate… Nnngh!”
Wriothesley snickered quietly. For a second, he looked like he was considering helping her out before ultimately prioritizing his patron’s entertainment:
“She can be persuasive, that’s true. I guess there are some perks to having a cute kid as your employee. Actually, I opened this business after she’d agreed to help me with it, so it’s only been around for a few years. Don’t feel too bad about missing out.”
“I had initially assumed the two of you were blood-related, only for Mademoiselle Sigewinne to quickly correct me. A... family friend, perhaps?”
At long last, it would seem that Neuvillette had crossed an invisible line, stirring up visible consternation within the other. People in small towns tended to be sociable, and above all loved gossip, but there was still a limit to what was appropriate for a stranger to ask. Neuvillette, however, concerned himself with neither limitations nor social norms – only laws. Being quite familiar with the codices, he was sure there weren’t any legal provisions preventing him from learning more about the two humans who’d unwittingly piqued his attention.
In the meantime, Wriothesley was desperate to maintain his polite, customer-serving façade as he looked around helplessly, likely begging for Sigewinne to come back. Sadly for him, there were no other patrons nearby looking for raw meat during lunch time, his assistant was still moving heaven and earth to find a new sheet of packing paper, and he couldn’t simply leave the stall himself.
Whether he wanted it or not, the nosy vampire had him locked into small talk with him.
“Ah... kind of.” He mumbled dismissively, rubbing the back of his neck. “I... I suppose I took her under my wing. She had nowhere else to go, so... I made her my future apprentice, if you will.”
“Is she an orphan?” He asked, knowingly driving the man up against the wall, even as his voice couldn’t possibly sound any less interested.
“...Yeah.” Wriothesley admitted hesitantly, his expression growing grim. “As far as I know, she was being raised by her grandma until the old woman passed and Sigewinne ended up on the streets like many, many before her. If there’s one thing this town doesn’t lack, it's orphans and widows.”
A bleak factlet that the longtime presence of a vampire was sure to have nothing to do with.
“Pity, indeed. And yet, you do not choose to adopt every single orphan that you come across, do you?” Bolder yet, Neuvillette’s head tilted to the side.
“Well... no, but believe it or not, unlike the ‘philanthropists’ who are all bark and no bite, I do whatever I can to help them out in my spare time.” Much to Neuvillette’s delight, Wriothesley’s tone also grew the slightest bit harsher, as his provocations had finally managed to light up a small flame of passion within the other. “I know what it’s like to sleep outside, so I took it upon myself to be the big brother they need. See this stuff here? Whatever doesn’t get sold becomes a hearty stew for the boys. Just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to sound like I’m some kinda hero, I just...”
He didn’t finish, staring down and letting his hands skim over the game he’d so proudly presented just then.
He looked quite angry, though not nearly enough to raise his voice. Neuvillette had a few suspicions as for the reason – from the moment the two of them had first laid their eyes on each other, he could sense the slight disdain from him, which he assumed had to do with his own... affluent appearance.
Neuvillette was entertained like he hadn’t been in years – and impressed, above all. What a fascinating human his ‘forest friend’ had turned out to be! A true, honest-to-god altruist. One with an overwhelming contempt for the self-declared wealthy philanthropists, nonetheless.
He reminded him of himself from a few hundred years ago. He had since chosen to distance himself from humanity as well as the vampirekind, but even when he still lived among them and interacted with them daily in his line of work, Neuvillette would take on many human mannerisms, their emotions included. Maybe that was why some semblance of guilt was always present in his otherwise cold, undead heart. Despite his curse, he’d been trying to remain... ‘good’, whatever that meant. ‘Fair’ at the very least – whether it was by coming to people’s aid via his many careers or sharing the endless skills he’d gathered over the centuries. Of course, he’d tried his hand at being a ‘philanthropist’, as well. There was only so much a monster like him could do in order to extenuate his nefarious deeds, though.
If only the two of them had met earlier... before he’d had to encase his heart in an impenetrable layer of apathy and cynicism so that he could save it from eroding that had already consumed so many of his vampire kin’s hearts…
If they had – if only he could still feel anything so beautiful and pure – then in that moment, he would’ve been moved to the very core.
Maybe he would’ve even felt… fulfilled.
Unfortunately... they had not.
“Oh? How very noble of you. Commendable. That being said... you had expertly dodged my initial question regarding your ward’s acquisition, Monsieur Wriothesley. Why her in particular…? Now, please forgive me if I’m the one acting impertinent...”
The other shook his head, somewhat impatiently.
“I thought that it’d be obvious enough. I took her in because she’s a girl.”
“Hm? Does that matter very much?”
“Sure does. Take a look around, Monsieur. There are thousands of ways in which those little rascals are trying to earn an extra coin, from shoe polishing to helping out the fishermen. Most of these small jobs are considered too ‘inappropriate’ for a lady, though. Besides, you don’t really see any girls running around alongside them, do you? Wanna guess why that is?”
It was true – whether he stayed in this small fishing town or ventured out to the world’s largest cities, the vast majority of children he’d seen in the streets were boys, whether they were innocently playing, returning from factory shifts, or looking for the next pick-pocketing victim. It had been that way since he could remember, back when the same type of rascal would bounce pebbles off the armors of fruitless faith wars’ returnees, and yet – somehow, Neuvillette never paused to question this state of things.
Maybe that too was a symptom of being a vampire for far, far too long... his kin, as flawed as they were, were much ahead of humans in terms of social equality. In fact, some of the most vengeful and ferocious vampires he knew were those many maidens who’d fallen in various witch trials...
He shuddered. And then, he shook his head, signaling at Wriothesley to enlighten him, since he appeared eager to do so, already staring at him disappointingly.
“Well, you’ve seen Sigewinne. She’s pretty, isn’t she? She wouldn’t last a week on the streets before someone... picked her up.” He said with tangible revulsion in his voice. “Best case scenario, some bored, wealthy merchants or passing travelers would take her in to be their housemaid. Worst case... I don’t wanna think about it, but I’m sure Monsieur can figure it out.”
Indeed, he could, and as he did, Neuvillette’s face also twisted in disgust. Among all the different kinds of humans he’d come across in his long life, children were the only ones he’d never sunken his teeth into, no matter how badly he was starving – he never would. He was no vigilante, but he couldn’t stand the sight of any injustice or harm being done to them, feeling inexplicably protective of them.
Most vampire fledglings didn’t ask to be cursed, and it often took them decades, if not centuries to learn how to navigate the confusing world around them. Children, in many ways, were the same, which was probably why they were some of the only beings he could still fully empathize with.
Still, his respect for Wriothesley’s conviction continued to grow. Here was a man who had principles – he must’ve had his own moral code to live by, and just enough lofty ambitions not to bumble blindly through life in hopes of stumbling upon opportunities. The same couldn’t be said about most humans nowadays. Wriothesley was a rare specimen – as rare as they come. Neuvillette almost felt proud to have found him.
Nevertheless, once those horribly grim implications had been stated out in the open, both of them were overcome with a sense of discomfort, repulsed by the idea. Their conversation seemed to have met an untimely end as Wriothesley shuffled Neuvillette’s order back and forth on the counter, and the latter peeked towards the sky, noticing that the rain had become lighter. He should probably be on his way sooner than later, he thought.
Before one of them could either try to slip away or combat the lingering awkwardness by shifting subjects, though, both were surprised by Sigewinne’s long-awaited return:
“I’m back! I’m back, Monsieur! I... I found some more dry paper! I’ll pack these extra snug for you!”
The poor girl’s cheeks were reddened from running, her cloak’s hood had fully slipped off her head, letting the rain soak her pigtails, and her dress was spotted with mud like a Dalmatian’s pelt; nevertheless, she looked over the moon, wasting no time to lay the newly retrieved paper down on the counter and start packing the fish and rabbit he’d requested into surprisingly neat parcels.
This time, Wriothesley didn’t hesitate to help her.
Meanwhile, Neuvillette stood completely still, making humble attempts at untangling the countless unintelligible thoughts surging through his mind as he pondered. Silently, he watched Sigewinne’s small but diligent hands fold the brown paper before his eyes moved onto Wriothesley’s handsome face, solemn and focused. Although the man was occupied holding down the goods as they were getting wrapped, his thoughts appeared to be elsewhere, too.
And just then, in that very moment – Neuvillette felt a bizarre impulse consume him as though he’d stumbled and fallen into raging flames. It was something he hadn’t felt in many decades at that point: a spark of life.
For the first time in years, he wanted to do something – just because. It was entirely unnecessary for his survival, protecting his kin’s secrets, or even... entertainment. He simply felt an urge to do it.
“A-Actually, if that’s not too much trouble... I’d like to add something to my order.” He said.
“Oh? Got an appetite for more now, don’t you?” Although mildly surprised, Wriothesley flashed him a grin, no longer holding a grudge over his so-called ‘impertinence’. The thought of making even more money off the wealthy old vampire must’ve lifted his spirits.
“Yes. Would you hold this for me? I need to find something...” Neuvillette unceremoniously handed Wriothesley his umbrella, digging through his coat’s inner pockets. Both the hunter and his assistant watched him curiously, as if they’d already deemed him a madman. “There. In that case, I believe I shall take... your entire remaining stock, please.” He finally declared, throwing a hefty bag of coins onto the counter so carelessly a few of them slipped out, rolling across the surface.
He’d never been a huge fan of those new-age banknotes. What sort of guarantee did meaningless slips of papers give against pure gold?
“Huuuuh?!” Sigewinne stood on the tips of her toes, eagerly trying to climb the counter in order to inspect the money up close. Eventually, she managed to grab one of the loose coins and gazed upon it wide eyed, as though she wasn’t handling those on a daily basis.
The girl seemed to be the type not to look a gift horse in the mouth; her boss was far more dumbfounded:
“E... Excuse me?”
“I’ll be taking everything that hasn’t been reserved for other customers, naturally. If there is any leftover stock on that cart of yours, I’d like to purchase that, too.” Neuvillette looked down at the coin sack, realizing he hadn’t counted the exact amount; that’d likely take some time. Once vampires started counting things, they could get a bit... compulsive about it. “Hmm... I hope this is enough to cover all expenses, otherwise I could stop by the bank—“
“Wait, wait, wait! Monsieur!” Wriothesley flailed his hands nervously. “H... Hello? I cannot take that! It’s too much. W-What do you mean ‘entire stock’? That’s...”
“Of course you can. You are selling wares, and I’m buying them, unless... I misunderstood something about this stall?” It was now Neuvillette who started doubting himself.
“Nope, you didn’t! We can definitely take this...” Sigewinne interjected, finally succeeding in her mission of snatching the sack, which she then cradled in her arms like a newborn child. “Oh, dear, but... we’re going to need so much more packing paper!”
“No need.” Neuvillette retrieved his umbrella from Wriothesley, who’d been holding it stiffly all along, looking like a particularly ornate coat hanger. He then used his free hand to shove the newly packaged previous purchases under his arm. “I will not be taking the rest of it home. I wouldn’t be able to find a use for such an absurd amount of meat if I tried.”
“Yeah! No doubt about that!” Wriothesley snapped back, exasperated by his role of being the only person present who still had his wits about him, apparently. “Is this some kind of a joke? Is Monsieur mocking us? I don’t understand. If you don’t want it, what are we supposed to do with it, then?!”
“Oh. I thought that it’d be obvious enough.” Neuvillette perfectly echoed the other’s words from minutes prior, with no intent to get back at him whatsoever... Well, maybe a minor intent. “Why of course, cook it and feed it to the children who live in the streets. That is what you said you usually do with the leftovers, correct?”
“Wooow! That’s... three crates of fish, two more rabbits, two pheasants, the deer...” Sigewinne ran around from corner to corner, excitedly counting, “That’s not just a stew! That’s a roast! And soup! And maybe we could borrow the neighbors’ machine to make some sausage... and dumplings! And the rest could be dried for jerky! Think of the feast, Wriothesley! That’s food for weeks! The boys will get plump as a partridge, hehe. We’re going to have to ask Clorinde to bring it with her to the countryside before it goes bad!” The girl grabbed onto her employer’s sleeve, trying to shake him out of whatever kind of stupor Neuvillette’s response had put him into. “Come ooon! Just accept the payment from this nice Monsieur! Thank you sir, thank you so much!”
“Oi. Do I get a say in anything ‘round here?” Wriothesley grumbled, freeing himself from her grasp by crossing his arms, glaring at Neuvillette as though he was blaming him for all of the world’s problems. “Don’t get me wrong, Monsieur. This purchase... it’d be a wonderful act of charity if it was true. Only it sounds a bit too good to be true to me. What’s the catch?”
Neuvillette’s assessment seemed to be correct – he truly was the sort of man to seek holes in everything that was given to him for free. He couldn’t help but wonder: what had made this young man so skeptical?
“There is none. I’ve no reason to lie about this matter, and the money is genuine as well. You are free to take it to the bank to have it assessed, should you deem it necessary.”
This clearly wasn’t the answer Wriothesley was expecting to hear, which caused him to click his tongue in frustration. After taking a moment to cool his head, he picked up one of the scattered coins, examined it briefly, then put it away, only to try and approach the issue from a different angle:
“It looks legitimate enough, but that wasn’t what I meant! I just don’t understand... what would compel you to do this?”
“Clearly, the beautiful words I’d heard from you just then have inspired me to be a better man and expand the scope of my philanthropy. I shall be passive no more and join your cause – just this once. Is that a crime?” Neuvillette raised his eyebrows in a borderline theatrical expression, suddenly feigning innocence. He wouldn’t want to admit it, but... there might’ve been a slight sliver of truth in that statement.
“I—“ Flustered, Wriothesley was quickly nearing a dead end, as most of his arguments had been disarmed, bar for one: “And what if I just take your money and do nothing with these goods, hmm? Have you thought of that, Monsieur? What if I keep the meat and pelts for myself, or resell them? What happens then? Are you honestly going to trust me with such an absurd sum and depart without a word?”
“Yes. Because I sincerely trust that you will do the right thing.” Although he found a certain sort of delight in driving the hunter more and more mad with each word, Neuvillette’s beliefs were not entirely unfounded. He could sense his emotions, blurry yet so intense they overshadowed even a small child’s glee. There was a great deal of shock and anxiety within Wriothesley, as expressed outwardly, but beneath it lay disbelief mixed with genuine excitement. He actually couldn’t wait to break the news to those unfortunate children and feed them.
Neuvillette’s sharp sense of hearing could easily pick up on the other’s heartbeat, now racing harder than it had been throughout their whole conversation and working overtime to pump that sweet, noble blood of his into his veins. Wriothesley didn’t want to believe a nice thing could happen to him even once – perhaps much like Neuvillette, he’d been burned one too many times in the past. Even so, in all of those feelings, there was not a trace of smugness or selfishness. Neuvillette felt it in his bones. True joy always excited the body in turn, whilst greed and anguish filled it with poison and pain. That was one of the many reasons he didn’t like using this particular gift of his very often, though in most cases, he was doing so unwittingly either way.
That day turned out to be full of firsts – and it was also the first time in a while that peering into another’s feelings didn’t... hurt. With that realization, he was able to muster up a small smile:
“Well then, if everything’s settled, I do think I will depart, indeed. Rest assured, if it turns out your meat is as good as advertised, I shall become a regular customer of yours.”
Although the rain had not yet stopped, the dark gray clouds were slowly beginning to disperse, the color appearing a tad closer to that of Neuvillette’s hair. As intriguing as this chance encounter was, it really was high time to start heading back home.
As such, he gave each of his new acquaintances a nod and turned around.
“You’re very, very welcome to come back again! Every day, even!” Sigewinne ran out of the stall to wave at him before he even started walking. “Thank you again, Monsieur... um—“
“Monsieur Neuvillette, was it...?” Wriothesley finished for her, suddenly able to recall his name, which he hadn’t tried to use since their introduction. He still looked somewhat shaken, though evidently, his mind had already found brand new dots to connect. His frown deepened, and his teeth briefly emerged to bite into his lip before he gathered enough courage to look up at Neuvillette again. “Yeah, thank you. If there’s nothing fishy about this gold... you’ve my word I’ll use it for good, along with the food.”
“I would certainly hope so.”
Bidding adieu to the two at long last, Neuvillette soon left the town square and headed straight for the rainy forest’s shade. There, among the trees, he would quickly learn that the woods’ intense bouquet of scents, drifting relentlessly through the humid air, had since become much more difficult to bear.
Wriothesley’s blood... its scent was among them, too, only this time, he could put a name and face to it. A very special man, indeed...
...
Having made it far enough into the woods, Neuvillette stopped suddenly, and then dropped both his umbrella and the parcels down onto the wet ground. It was with a great deal of frustration that his hand traveled onto his aggressively grumbling stomach, making him realize that he could not, in fact, bargain with it in order to silence it.
With that realization, his other hand reached for one of the packages, hastily tearing through the paper Sigewinne had gone through so much trouble to wrap, and then pulled out the dead rabbit; he sank his teeth into it, wincing at the stale taste of cold, dead blood which would’ve killed him if it had belonged to a human. Alas, he instead opted for taking a bite out of its stomach.
He chewed slowly and rather unhappily. Solid meat was no vampire’s favorite, but the pitiful amount of blood it contained would keep him going until the night.
For centuries, he’d been sustaining himself primarily on these. Though he wasn’t always proud of it, his conscience would not let him attack humans in a carefree manner, no matter how much he wished to keep himself detached from their world. Still, in order to maintain his strength and sanity, he’d allow himself a human meal once in a few months – sometimes, it was just a small sip and sometimes… a bigger one, that left them dead. How he felt about doing so was beside the point.
...
Neuvillette inhaled deeply, for once conscious of his own breathing.
His mind was made up.
That peculiar man, his longtime forest ‘friend’, Wriothesley...
He would become his next trophy.
Neuvillette would drain him dry, to the very last drop.