@gxxdeagle said: “What are you?” From here.
Armand raises his head from the neck of the man he had been feeding on. A poacher he had spent the night stalking, as he usually does, until he had broken him down so far he was little more than puddy in his arms. He hadn't finished yet, the man still breaths, but he stays obediently on his knees as Armand raises to his feet to face the intruder.
Dawn is perhaps an hour away. The lack of light reduces him to only a sillhouette, save for the glowing orange eyes that stare her down. If he were in a clearer state of mind he would have likely already killed her. But there is something about her that makes him pause. In Armand's distraction, the poacher attempts to raise to his feet. Armand turns his face to the side. " Rest. " He says, his mixed accent hard to discern, except for a french twinge that is prevalent after his centuries spent in Paris. The man falls to the ground at his command, asleep.
He turns to her again. " Are you not afraid, little girl? "
