When Louis is starved for blood, he becomes pallid, drawn, and lightheaded. His vessels stand out a little. He's thirsty, hungry. Humans get like this too, but Louis's condition carries with it the taint of addiction. He tries to keep to animals for both practical and moral reasons, even if they're less nourishing and don't taste half as good. When he puts human blood in his mouth, he tastes the whole of a person, their life, their dreams, and he doesn't want that to go away. A vampire who loves humanity even while feasting on them, especially the evildoers--it's laughable, but Louis is not inclined towards laughter.
He has, by now, cobbled together a method for hunting large game with his new power. He washes whatever scents he might have off himself, follows what he hopes are deer trails, parks his sledge, and hides strategically. If he can take down a deer close at hand in a flash of fangs and knife, he won't have to run far. Even this small ambush takes a lot out of him, but a deer is large enough to sate his spent energy. Then he drags the meat back into town to barter with humans.
When Louis comes scouting and goes to investigate the carcass already there, he nearly reels as if he's going to be sick. The case is the opposite. Smell of blood in the air. His bright green eyes dilate nearly to black, fangs stirring in their gums as they extend, and that's his kill, and the deer is dead, blood spoiled by death and cold and spilled everywhere, damn it--
Hang on, he's seen this person around Milton... He knows that hunched desperation, the look of the hungry sobbing addict. He's worn it himself. Another immortal? But he's eating the brains. Vampires don't crave the flesh, and zombies (zombis, zonbis) have yet to attain the pop cultural status of vampires in Louis's time. Kieren is no thrall. Louis doesn't move from where he stopped half behind a tree.
"...Boy?" he asks, voice infinitely soft, as if he is coaxing the deer, as if the deer is alive and simply afraid instead of half-eaten on the ground like a mashed insect. If Kieren attacks him, Louis is confident in his ability to defend himself.
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He has, by now, cobbled together a method for hunting large game with his new power. He washes whatever scents he might have off himself, follows what he hopes are deer trails, parks his sledge, and hides strategically. If he can take down a deer close at hand in a flash of fangs and knife, he won't have to run far. Even this small ambush takes a lot out of him, but a deer is large enough to sate his spent energy. Then he drags the meat back into town to barter with humans.
When Louis comes scouting and goes to investigate the carcass already there, he nearly reels as if he's going to be sick. The case is the opposite. Smell of blood in the air. His bright green eyes dilate nearly to black, fangs stirring in their gums as they extend, and that's his kill, and the deer is dead, blood spoiled by death and cold and spilled everywhere, damn it--
Hang on, he's seen this person around Milton... He knows that hunched desperation, the look of the hungry sobbing addict. He's worn it himself. Another immortal? But he's eating the brains. Vampires don't crave the flesh, and zombies (zombis, zonbis) have yet to attain the pop cultural status of vampires in Louis's time. Kieren is no thrall. Louis doesn't move from where he stopped half behind a tree.
"...Boy?" he asks, voice infinitely soft, as if he is coaxing the deer, as if the deer is alive and simply afraid instead of half-eaten on the ground like a mashed insect. If Kieren attacks him, Louis is confident in his ability to defend himself.