Louis has been helping here and there with Tim's bunny farm since its inception. He doesn't know a thing about animals, but he has goods to trade and he wants blood. (Tim doesn't know about the blood. He suspects Louis is some sort of werewolf with carnivorous cravings.) Sometimes Tim culled rabbits that weren't fit for consumption or survival, but Louis could spare him the deed. Louis took them gently in his arms, and they were never seen again.
When the conflagration burns bright enough that it can't be ignored, Louis is there in a breath with supernatural speed. Where is everyone? Louis hardly cares for the animals as he would a human. They are not the young girl he saved from the flames. Still, they are part of what helps him maintain a non-people diet, and he is perilously close to losing it. He rolls his jacket in the slush of melting snow and covers his head.
It's foolish. Fire hurts vampires. Fire and the sun. Louis doesn't get far. Louis emerges, coughing, little ones tucked into his coat and stuffed into his pockets. The smoke has knocked out his charges, but they're still alive. Where will he even put them? He collapses a safe distance away, skin ruddy with too much heat. He's hungry from Free Running. He's hungry because he's just hungry. One of the bundles he pulls out is charred. They will die from shock. He doesn't know their name. Tim probably would.
He sinks his fangs into the fur, and his eyes dilate with the briefest of reprieves.
This Could be Paradise | + cw: burns, animals being put down vampire style
When the conflagration burns bright enough that it can't be ignored, Louis is there in a breath with supernatural speed. Where is everyone? Louis hardly cares for the animals as he would a human. They are not the young girl he saved from the flames. Still, they are part of what helps him maintain a non-people diet, and he is perilously close to losing it. He rolls his jacket in the slush of melting snow and covers his head.
It's foolish. Fire hurts vampires. Fire and the sun. Louis doesn't get far. Louis emerges, coughing, little ones tucked into his coat and stuffed into his pockets. The smoke has knocked out his charges, but they're still alive. Where will he even put them? He collapses a safe distance away, skin ruddy with too much heat. He's hungry from Free Running. He's hungry because he's just hungry. One of the bundles he pulls out is charred. They will die from shock. He doesn't know their name. Tim probably would.
He sinks his fangs into the fur, and his eyes dilate with the briefest of reprieves.