@bydestiny sent: ‘ please. i want to be like you. ’ from Steve.
creature-specific sentence starters: vampire / accepting.
It is the pleading of a child which pulls Gavner from his focus. Beneath the eave of the old theatre, gazing out into the cool air, his eyes looking over slick puddles on the cracked and potholed concrete from intermittent light rains, it's not a bad night. The wind smells free — though he can make out the scent of diesel, the stale musk of the theatre behind. His leather jacket helped keep him warm, but for a being like him — he could easily go without, all the while barely noticing a chill.
Perhaps he pities the boy, for rejection hurts when you're so young, especially rejection which comes as harshly as what Larten had shown the youth. Yet, even if a soul wanted to blood a child into their ranks, Gavner would see to it that said law would never be broken.
"Look, kid... Steve, was it?" He tries to sound understanding as he speaks. Understanding yet firm, as he leans against the brick facade of the dimly-lit building. "Didn't you hear what Larten told you in the theatre?"
"We don't blood children."