@masterofthebloodhunt [In reply to x]
Sanguine merely smiled at Hircine with his nigh perfectly black eyes, a finger gently tapping at the lip of the bottle of ale in his hand, his other hand holding a pastry and not moving. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, one of his mouth corners twitching up more. “Could it be both?”
The question wasn’t a question as much as it was an answer. The answer was yes, to both possibilities. Though, less so on the first, more so that the former relied on the latter to exists. Well, unless it being genuine curiosity meant it couldn’t rely on outside factors. A sharp tooth showed from between Sanguine’s dark lips as a soft laugh left him when he thought back on the taste of iron on his tongue. Good days. Yesterday, in fact, though that wasn’t the day on his mind.
“Does daedric blood suit your fancy, today?”
All blood tasted different, after all, even among daedra. One being’s heart was not like the other though it may beat at the same rhythm. Not every bone cracked the same or throat cried the same. Sanguine’s energy wasn’t as it usually was. His wasn’t the same as it had been either. It changed, like all daedra. It changed drastically. Grew and invaded, and it settled, heavy in his being. The red of his skin was not enough, anymore. He needed red on his skin. Red of his own or red of another. He didn’t care.
“Oh, never mind. Who am I fooling?” Sanguine quickly scoffed with a shake of his head, after which he took a deep swig of his drink. He let out a chuckle and turned away, tossing the food he’d been holding aside to give a slow and dismissive wave. “You couldn’t catch me.”
The huntsman should have known better than to even respond to the initial question presented to him. It wasn’t hard to discern the sinful prince’s intentions behind any interactions they had, but he had responded. Now he was faced with having to deal with the annoyance of the other prince’s attempts at seduction though conversing about blood.
That annoyance was evidenced with a grunt as he crossed his arms, his mind wondering just how quickly he could get the idiot to leave this time.
His top lip curled in a small show of mild disgust, “I never waste any part of a hunt if it can be avoided. Bone is made in to weapons and flesh is eaten, blood is drank while eating. I do not derive any sexual pleasure from it.”
His hunts and the following field dressing of his kills were sacred, there was no way he would sully them by indulging in lust induced from it. Granted, afterward when he was cleaning up if the hunt was a particularly good one, there had been occasion where he was...in the mood, but not while there was still a fresh kill in front of him.
When the question of daedric blood crossed in to the exchange, he raised a brow, fingernails on his right hand growing to slight points that slightly perforated the skin on his arm, “If you’re inviting me to rip your throat out I would be happy to oblige, Sanguine.” The mention of him not even being able to catch the drunken moron wasn’t even acknowledged. He would not be tricked in to a show of pride again, no matter the outcome or reasoning.
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