𝙶𝙾𝙳𝚁𝙸𝙲 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙽 𝙰 𝙱𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 arrive in bon temps. that noise... they have no idea what it was, what the origin of it might have been, but all they know is that it sent them into a frenzy like no other. the once peaceful vampire had reverted back to the killer he once was, savage and brutal and blood-thirsty... and as the millenias old vampire comes to his senses—when the whispers of voices long past and visions of those he’s failed come to a sudden stop—godric realises just what he’s done.
pale knees hit the leafy brush of the forest, countless dead surrounding them. worse? their limbs are all that’s left of them, bodies and their respective arms and legs and heads scattered all around. it’s a scene that would have been quite common in his first thousand years, but not now. not for a long time since. godric is the peacemaker, the father, the wise one who values human life just as much as that of his fellow vampire-kind. for a vampire who so often refuses to feed to do something like this... a grief-wracked sob slips from them as they scramble at the forest floor, dirt making a new home under their fingernails. “ oh, children, ” he half-sobs, half whispers, “ i’m sorry—i’m so, so sorry... ”