Veles had found himself taking refuge within a nearby village, run down and now the base of a petty band of ruffians– easy prey for a man like himself. Veles was rarely a man who discriminated against those he chose to feed on, yet bandits were never something he was fond of– the lowest of men, who pillaged and murdered only for their own gain and sick sense pleasure. Perhaps, in many ways, he too was a hypocrite, yet the man still had a sense of honor that remained from his days as a nobleman and human.
He is engrossed in the sweet, metallic taste of fresh blood of the man he had easily taken down without so much as lifting a single finger, senses clouded from such a pleasurable indulgence when the familiar sound of footsteps resound in his ears, bringing him back to the present reality.
It is as if by instinct that he hisses, shrill and harsh as it cuts through an otherwise silent night– head jerking towards the intruder that had managed to wordlessly sneak up upon him as he preyed upon his meal. The vampire’s lips too curled back to reveal pointed fangs that had previously been sunken in flesh, still glistening with fresh blood as it dribbles almost dangerously down the man’s chin, the moonlight through the cracked window of the end making it almost appear to shine. Surely such a sight was something own known to myths and long forgotten stories written in text an passed by mouth; yet here it stood, a creature neither living nor completely dead.
He is hunched over the man he had been preying upon, and appears that in any second’s notice he could lunge without so much as a warning, much like a feline poised to attack its vulnerable prey– but instead he makes no movement whatsoever, narrow slits of eyes widening upon realization of just who the identity of this unexpected disturbance was.
Prince Kamui. Second Prince of Nohr.
The words ring loud and clear in his ears. At first he believes it a hoax, for what reason would such a prince need to travel to such a broken place in the backwaters of Nohr? But upon seeing the younger man and the intensity that glows in crimson orbs, even the faint pulse of draconic blood that pumps through veins, he knows that it is the truth. The other exudes an aura becoming of royalty, and perhaps something more… something utterly animalistic that Veles too knows all too well for a man of his nature.
“I intend to do you no harm whatsoever,” He finally says, voice initially cracking due to his prior activity before he makes to clear his throat. “I must apologize, my Lord,” He proceeds to stand and bow deeply, dipping to his knees. It is almost humiliating to be in the presence of royalty in such a state, mouth caked with blood and appearing to be quite the mess, something otherwise utterly unbecoming of the man who took utmost pride in his appearance. But it had not been often that the man was ever caught in the middle of feasting upon his prey in the dead night (and gods, how he loathed when it happened), and least of all he did not expect the Prince of Nohr (of all people) to grace his presence.
Keen ears almost flinch at the shrill, ghastly hiss that slices through the frigid silence of the night, but his stern expression doesn’t betray his budding curiosity. Drenched in the dim moonlight that seeps through cracks in the walls and windows far older than the draconic prince could ever hope to be, the other man looks more akin to a monster than a human being, but Kamui has grown used to such unsightly beings (he counts himself amongst them from time to time, after all). But the potent stench of blood is enough to make his acute nose curl ever so slightly in disgust, and pull his lips back just a further in a display of rather open hostility. Ideally, he would prefer not to engage with the stranger if a fight could be avoided, but his toes flexed against the frozen concrete in anticipation.
Calloused fingers wrapped slightly about Yato’s hilt dig claw-like nails into the blade’s hard metal, but he does not move to strike. The man’s appearance is unnerving at best; hunched over the body of the stranger he had been…feeding on, and Kamui, despite his patience, can only hold such a position for so long before instinct takes over and whatever wayward mercy he has committed himself to is tossed to the chill of the night air.
But Kamui is no saint; he can’t look at man crouched like some sort of carnivore and dripping with blood, and hold his tongue or claim he could claim he would fully trust this stranger should he claim himself anything but a threat. As a child he had memorized almost every legend and tall tale he could get his hands in the solitude of the fortress, but he had never stumbled upon anything even resembling this stranger before, and, even if he had, he doesn’t have the time to waste digging through his head for useless stories that would no better prepare him for this than his own instincts would.
It isn’t; however, a fight he finds himself in when the stranger finally speaks, but the grip he holds on Yato doesn’t ease, even when the man uncurls his spine only to bend it into a deep bow. The way his voice cracks isn’t lost on Kamui, but he’s too focused on what the other man is saying to pay it much mind. He shouldn’t be surprised when the other recognizes, or even when he takes the time to properly address him, but there is a certain spark that glitters in his red eyes for just the briefest of moments he allows it to settle in for.
“You need not apologize to me, nor do you need to be so formal.
That aside, if you are an ally to this country, may I ask for your name
and for any information you may have regarding bandits in this area?”
Though he has a rather sinking suspicion when he allows his gaze to shift for a moment to the ugly heap of tangled, gangly limbs that are so pale and contorted that even Kamui’s rather sharp vision can barely recognize the stranger’s discarded corpse for what it is. He does; however, perhaps even against his better judgment, dislodge his pointed nails from metal, and unwraps his fingers from about Yato’s hilt. If this man is willing to offer him respect, Kamui is willing to extend what flimsy trust he can muster up given the circumstances of their meeting.
“There have been several attacks on the nearby villages by a group
of bandits will ill-intent towards my lord brother. It is believed that they are
using this area as a base in order to plan these attacks. As a prince of this
kingdom, it is my job to ensure the safety of those who call it home.”
He explains, realizing his initial approach had left our rather vital details to explain his presence here, as well as justify his questions to the stranger.
