Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sabata put an arm around Skyla as she drank. "Don't cry, I know you don't want to, but you won't last much longer otherwise and that's not good for any of us." He looked over at Sophie, "Isn't that right?"

She closed her eyes and imagined just like Sophie said. It was a lot easier to drink the blood that way. The tears dried up and the feeling in her heart went away. A new feeling replaced the old and now she felt like she was changing. Something was boiling up inside her but she didn't know what. She stopped drinking and stood up. " I feel a lot different now. Is that suppose to happen? Is this the way you feel after you drink a lot of...well you know?" The word still made her feel a little queasy.

Skyla hesitantly grabbed another boy with a shaky hand. She pierced his flesh with her fangs and began to drink some more. Blood trickled down her chin as she fed. The smell of blood, its intoxicating aroma, made her moan with pleasure and lick her lips as she finished drinking the last drop. She stood up and felt stronger. She walked a little ways down the poorly lit street, stopped to avoid walking into a puddle and froze. Skyla stared, transfixed at what she saw. She saw someone so horrendous that she screamed a most frightening scream. She saw herself in that reflection, covered in someone else's blood making her look revolting, but that did not make her scream. Seeing the look in her own terrifying eyes, made her see for the first time, the monster she had truly become.

"NO!" she screamed and fled into the night. She ran blindly down empty streets trying to get away from the monster she had seen. Skyla ran with the night itself, but at last when her body collapsed from exhaustion she looked up to see where her tortured self had brought her. Without knowing, she had ran all the way back to the place where her life had been stolen from her. She was at her uncle's house lying in the remains of her once flourishing garden.

Ben walked out of the building he had just spent the night in. He felt a tinge of regret by spending the night here instead of with his pack, but sometimes he felt he needed to get away. He wasn't being a lonewolf, just every now and then, you just want to be alone. Last night was one of those nights for him.

Inhaling deeply and slowly letting it out, Ben took into notice that the air was colder than normal. But it was winter, so what should he expect. However, to his memory, this winter seemed colder than any so far. Maybe it was just his imagination. Ben closed and buttoned his jacket and tossed the hood over his head. Perhaps it was time to make his way back to his pack.

Rynn climbed out of the trucker's cab, licking away a smear of blood from his hand where he clutched the driver's keys. Of the man who had picked him up, there wasn't very much left; a suspicious stain on the seat, over which he'd spread the man's jacket as he drove here. Rynn was humming. For the first time in a long while, he felt cheerful.
At least, until he felt the searching presence on the street, the quicksilver mind of an immortal--and more importantly, who that person was searching for.
His immediate instinct was to run. But that was pointless; and besides, why should he? This person did not know his name, his appearance--all he need do is blend into the crowd.
But he wanted to get a look at his follower.
He was easy enough to find; there was a wide space around him on the crowded street. Rynn frowned. Looked like some punk kid who'd got a taste for the Orient. And--he sniffed the air, and frowned. He recognized that scent on account of smelling it on Cian on more than one occasion. As he passed by, Rynn whispered, "Nice perfume," and moved on, losing himself in the crowd.

Rynn smiled, winningly, and whispered, "Ah--a connoisseur. Forgive me, sir, I mistook you for someone of lesser tastes." He wanted to know who this person was, suddenly, and who had sent him. Rynn's smile faded quickly when he realized that the boy might be an agent of Antha's; he did look like the sort of person she would consort with. Hurrying to catch up with him, Rynn fell into stride with his stalker and asked, "So--what does that mean? Who gets it next, and why is that bad?" He didn't care enough to pay attention to the intricacies of Mayfair family politics. It wasn't any of his business, besides.

Rynn shrugged. It was better to assume that he did work for Antha Mayfair than to not, and be caught off-guard. He sighed. "I don't care much for 'wayward witch boy'. My name is Rynn, as you probably already well know. What's yours?" He could have just reached out and plucked his title from his mind, of course--but Rynn considered that in bad manners. "I understand what you mean about Antha, though. I can't say I'm entirely at ease around her, either; it feels really good to get out of her house, without her or her brother breathing down my neck all the time--" He stopped when Sirius did, and took a look about. Across the street, the dim glow of a bar sign could be seen, through the evening fog. "Look, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry about the agent thing." He thumbed towards the bar. "Buy you a drink to make up for it?"