For although I hadn’t been here and I wasn’t yet entirely willing to demand he drink from me, to think that he’d so much as placed his mouth on the skin of another sliced at my innards. The intimacy of drinking another’s blood, of having him take anything he needed from someone else… I saw enough red that it wouldn’t have surprised me if my eyes had turned crimson with the lust for blood. A different, far more violent type of bloodletting. Fia the feral indeed.
