Strangers and Bloodletting (Vahn Seele x LaPieta)

[Vahn Seele]

Darkness had begun to gather among the camp, men in armor with white crosses along their chest settling in for the night. Though it had been a miraculous find, the group of holy knights knew that they were doing their holy work. Their prisoner, a man by the name of Corinth, was bound in chains within the carriage. They had seen the effects of the sun on his body, and the knights were not give him a fast death. Unholy creatures of his kind deserved to face their judgment in the eyes of the church, as a symbol of the new scourge that they would soon need to burn out of the land. It was a cruelty to drag him, a starving vampire, to a death that would likely be worse than the piercing rays of the sun, scorching his flesh and reducing him to ash.

Kindness was reserved for creatures of the light. Revealing Corinth and his darkness to the church would prove the knights' story to be true, and earn them a place among the church as heroes. If the church saw fit to bestow upon them a boon for their efforts, that was their choice, right? They'd never openly ask, but it would be rude to say no to a gift.

As the forest grew dark around them, the knights standing guard at the carriage would hear a rustling of chains and fabric against the floorboard of the carriage. Reaching for the door, one of the knights drew it open. In a blinding blur, a pale humanoid creature lunged out, chains still fastened tightly around his body. Fangs pierced throat, flesh ripped apart as a found of life would flood into the vampire's throat. The pulse of renewed energy would give him enough strength to break his bindings, metal screaming before splintering under immense stress. Drawing his teeth back, Corinth leveled his gaze with the other knight, smiling wide. "I'm starving..."

His words came out in a low whisper as he rushed forward, aiming to rip out another throat. His efforts, though, would be met by a blade at his throat. He hadn't drank enough to down them all, the man he had given a new breathing hole to still gasping for air and trying to press a growing cold palm to cover the wound he likely wouldn't survive. "You won't get the chance to murder anymore of our kin, monster."

"Oh, is that so?" Corinth asked, smiling to the wielder of the blade. There was a deep sense of madness in Corinth's eyes, an animosity that showed no fear or respect for the men who had held him for days without feeding. Bloodlust sung in his ears, each of their "pure" hearts beating so loudly, Corinth could not keep his focus. "Another time, then." Corinth said.

Before he could swipe his fingers out to sever the hand of the knight at his right, Corinth felt the slash of a blade along his back. The wound burned, splitting shirt and skin. His pale skin would be coated in a deep crimson as he turned and ran. Corinth's dark red hair was matted to the top of his head, his bare feet digging into the ground deep to distance himself from the knights. Before he could put enough distance between them, there was an additional pain of two arrows at his back, both finding spots that, thankfully, did not cross his heart.

Even with near fatal wounds, Corinth's minor feeding from the first knight had given him enough strength to get a far enough distance from the horde of knights. It did not, however, give him the strength to remain standing for long. Exerting too much effort to separate himself from his captors, Corinth found himself unable to prevent from collapsing onto a quiet forest path, small glitters of light from glowing bugs lingering over the edges of the path.

Corinth lay on display on the path, a battered and slashed pale figure. His eyes had closed, hiding the now dark crimson color of his supernatural nature. His shoulder length red hair was flat against his skull, drenched in sweat. His body was eerily still, no movements of breath and not even a discernible pulse. Based on the wound on his back, faint glimmering of bone beneath, one might assume him dead. If not that wound alone, the arrow in his lower back and in his left shoulder seemed to only help paint that truth even more real.

 

[LaPieta]

Ospina's lips remain quirked in what she hopes is a calming smile as the last of the stitches are tied off. The old Miller's daughter had cut her hand trying to catch a falling kitchen knife, thus the healer was called from her hut at the edge of the hamlet at dusk. It wouldn't do for her to actually be permitted to reside in the village proper, what with her being a relative outsider. The fact that she had lived here for 12 years meant little to them; hell, the cobbler kid from the village 2 day's travel over was still referred to as "that Dutral boy", despite being there since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.

Of course the furtive whispers ceased whenever they needed her medical knowledge, only to resume when the malady or injury had passed. The irony is not lost on her, and though a bit of resentment lingered, far more prominent was just plain hurt. All she wanted to do was help, yet they feared her. Hated her, despite their reliance on her skills.

"There you go, now remember: if a knife falls, you let it drop, the knife will hurt you far more than the floor. Okay?" The healer hands the pigtailed girl a stick of red licorice when the poultice is placed, the bandages wrapped.

The child nods, forgetting the words immediately, chewing on the licorice before scampering off to join her fellows in the important matter of seeing who could catch the village's stray cat, a vicious piebald thing.

Ospina sighs and begins packing her bag; her business in the town center had concluded, save for a few rounds. A comfrey poultice for the laborer with the broken leg, some hawthorn fruit for the woman who suffered from melancholy, and black sage for the headache-prone cobbler. Perhaps she'd stop by the general store, see if she could trade for a bit of curing salt, provided the prices weren't too dear. Then again, the price of everything had been exorbitant since the war, all of the supplies being funneled to the soldiers, traders being less and less common as the roads got more dangerous.

But nothing too bad would happen here; this wasn't the sort of place where anything really happened. Things happened in other places.

By the time she has returned to her cottage, the dark is pervasive. A modest stew is prepared from a few sorry root vegetables from her garden, a small bit of meat from a marten that had fallen into her traps added; the rest would be dried and smoked and cured for the winter. Hopefully the fur would fetch a decent price.

Not for the first time, she weighs the idea of following the battle-lines, providing medical aid for the soldiers. She'd be able to help far more people there, but something keeps her from it; she couldn't be complicit in encouraging the continuation of hostilities, though perhaps that in itself was selfish. Her desire for morality, to make a futile, ignored statement meant little to the boys dying alone in the fields.

Troubled, Ospina takes her basket and a lantern; Moon-root needed to be gathered, if not tonight then soon; it glowed vibrantly in the dark, and was nigh-unidentifiable in the light. A familiar path is taken, her light cutting through the all-encompassing dark. Little luck was had in finding the roots, unfortunately; the girl stills as a shadowy lump enters her field of vision. A sleeping animal? Foolishly, another step is taken towards it, and from there she is able to properly see the wounded man.

Quickly her frame of mind changes to the clinical and distant one needed to be effective in emergencies. Pulse is checked; nothing. But his blood still flowed, his heart still beat occasionally. The healer rips the hem of her dress and ties the strips of cloth as tightly around the wounds as possible; there would be time for proper disinfecting and bandaging when he was stable.

"Hey, can you hear me? We're gonna fix you right up, okay?"

Conversation is made in a feeble attempt to keep him somewhat connected to the mortal coil, in her experience patients seemed to do better when kind human contact was continued. And if it failed in that, it may at least provide some comfort as he passes.

 

[Vahn Seele]

For a while, there was only the calm silence of the night to comfort Corinth. Though there came the noise of nature, with bugs skittering about and rustling roots and grass, it was slowly absorbed into a numbness that the faint darkness provided him. There was a thought that remained in his mind, a peaceful one as he laid along the makeshift path. At least I will die by my own choice, not by the hands of cold-blooded humans.

The silence of the world would begin to give way to a silent heartbeat. A quiet drum among a landscape of shadowy shapes and blurry vision. Maybe death was not in the cards for him that night. Even if he could get some of their blood, he wouldn't be able to take it. Corinth had used all of the energy he had gained from the momentary drink in putting as much distance between himself and the knights who had been holding him captive. No human would dare offer their own blood to save him, right?

The heartbeat would begin to race as the sound of a feminine voice would wash over Corinth's ears. A woman? She must be out gathering for the night. Herbs, perhaps? If he had been lucky enough to stumble upon a healer, perhaps he could appeal to her kind nature. Maybe she would be able to look beyond his thirst for blood?

"I'm still here." Corinth said, the words come out in a faint shudder. He could hear the sound of ripping fabric, a measure that would be needless if he could have even a small amount of her blood. Just enough to mend some of his wounds, to seal the gaping slash along his back that was leeching life from him. "I.. need blood." He gasped out, his crimson eyes opening and trying to find her among the shadows that surrounded him. The glowing of the bugs around him would disperse as she would come near.

His request would linger in the silence, his hand trying to reach out for her. It would move, but never off of the ground. Disturbing the earth beneath it, his hand moved out to try and reach for her.

 

[LaPieta]

Her eyes widen as he speaks; she had thought him beyond the capacity for consciousness at this point, let alone coherent speech.

As his eyes dart open, she nearly gasps at the unnatural color, and it is then that she is able notice the fangs and come to the appropriate conclusion.

She would try and come to terms with the existence of the supernatural later; for now she compartmentalizes and brings her wrist close to his mouth, her other hand moving to clasp his reaching hand in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. The un

He could kill her. Likely would. But at this moment he is a person in need and it is within her capabilities to help him; she would not hesitate to help him.

"Drink. Take what you need." She says, squeezing her eyes shut, preparing for the incoming pain.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth was certain he was hallucinating. In his need for blood, he was in some sort of a haze that had him delirious and only seeing what he wanted. However. when he saw her wrist held out for him, the warmth of her hand in his outstretched one, Corinth felt the guilt. She didn't deserve to die to give him a longer life.

Dragging his tongue along the vein of her wrist, Corinth would be agonizing as his placed his fangs carefully at her wrist. With his teeth in place, Corinth pressed down until he felt the familiar pop of flesh and vein, blood trickling past his fangs and into his mouth. The bestial part of him wanted to press his teeth down, to rip into muscle and take greedily. Drawing his fangs back, he drank from the small stream of life that her wrist would give him. As he drank, Corinth's body would slowly begin to mend. The small bits of shimmering bone in the late moonlight would become less visible. Muscle would knit back together, flesh binding the wounds enough to prevent him from being at death's door for much longer.

When he had taken enough to give himself a chance of survival, Corinth drew himself back from the wrist. She would be able to see that the act of doing this was against his very nature, Corinth having to rip himself away from her pierced wrist and press his face against the ground. He had expected her to be afraid, to move close enough that he could take what he needed and leave. To be given a gift, well, it was unexpected and left him in a state of conflict.

The act of feeding on her blood had done enough to restore some of his strength, the two arrows at his back still pressing deep into him as he tried to push himself up to stand.

 

[LaPieta]

Rather than the sharp, stinging pain she expected, the bite is surprisingly pleasurable; she shudders as a strange euphoria wells within her, hand tightening around his. She almost lets her eyes flutter closed as the bliss tries to wash her away, but she needed to be there, at her full cognitive capacity while the man was in need.

For now, Ospina watches in awe as before her eyes the wounds begin to repair themselves, fast and efficient. Gratitude and relief well up in her as she realizes he did not intend to drain her dry. When he separates, her now-freed hand moves to gently run through his vibrantly-colored hair.

"Easy there, you're all right, you're stable now."

A too-close howl reminds her that one is never truly alone in the woods; a pack may have been drawn to the scent of blood.

"Come on, we have to go. My cottage isn't too far away."

The girl tries to help heft him to his feet as best she can, draping his arm over her shoulder to try and support his weight. The makeshift bandages hopefully were keeping too much blood from reaching the arrows, but she could not risk removing them until she had access to the tools to close the wounds and prepare the site. Removing an object from a piercing wound without the proper preparations was a rookie, disastrous in its consequences.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth's mind was swimming with a bit of pain from denying himself from drinking more. It was hard to break away from a feeding when one was so badly hurt. Much like a person starving to death, or dying of thirst, the urge to consume was hard to shake. Some thought it was down to self-control, making it out that a vampire should be capable of stopping before drawing too much.

As he became more calm, Corinth felt the reassuring hand of his savior running through his hair, speaking softly to him as he slowly regained himself from the blood craze he had almost given himself to. Sighing, Corinth moved his hands to press against the ground, bringing his feet underneath him as he began to stand. The effort would seem difficult, but that was to be expected after a fatal wound being healed. His body would be completely absorbed in healing a wound, rather than tending to his coordination and balance.

"You're a very kind person." Corinth said, glancing over to her as they walked. The howl of the wolves would be the next big threat to the two if they were not to move fast enough to get away from their hunting path.

"My name is Corinth." He said, trying to fill the silence that ensued after they had moved far enough away from the wolves. "I know you didn't have to do what you did. I would not have blamed you for choosing your life over mine, but I owe you a debt." Corinth wasn't sure where they were going, but he made sure to let her lead the way.

 

[LaPieta]

The moonlight streams delicately over the lengthy waves of her russet hair, giving it an almost incandescent glow as the density of trees begins to thin, somewhat. She continues to help shuffle him down the path, shouldering as much of the unsteady man's weight as she can.

"I hope I am, I certainly try to be, though I'm not sure how successful I am at it. My name is Ospina of Thorolund, and you don't owe me anything at all! I couldn't just let someone die, even if it meant putting my own life in danger."

Bright blue eyes look back at him before darting to the warm light they were approaching, and finally they break through the treeline.

A small plume of smoke comes from the chimney of the white-washed cottage, the light flickering gently through the window. Various herbs hang from the rafters, drying and adding a fragrant, earthy scent to the surroundings. A fenced off section containing a verdant herb and vegetable garden and a smaller chicken hutch is placed to the side of the structure. The gentle sound of a fast-flowing stream can be heard in the distance, in the direction of a small footpath.

"Come on, lets get you inside so I can check everything and get you a place to rest out of the sun. Will animal blood aid you? I can check my snares in the morning."

The girl begins practically dragging him towards the doorway; his weight was beginning to take its toll on her.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth did his best to carry his own weight as best he could, but that proved to be too much for his battered body to handle. The fight, while long over, had been preceded by a few days of starvation. The longer he was held captive, the more blood he would need to bring his body back to a balanced state. Vampires that were deprived of blood, while much more fierce in combat, were also vulnerable, making them liable to fall to wounds a human might.

"Ospina of Thorolund. I must be far from where they took me, then, as the name of your origin does not ring any bells." He said, trying to remember what lands he had been to in the past. As a vampire, traveling was sometimes difficult. Traveling at night, while it carried the benefit of cover, did not always work well. This had been the case for his capture. The knights of the area had grown wise of how to handle vampires, overwhelming him with numbers.

As they broke from the treeline, Corinth looked to the cottage and felt a sense of relief. "Animal blood can keep me sated, but it requires a lot more animal blood to recover from what I've been through. Three days of captivity with the knights of the church left me to the point of madness."He said, trying to shoulder his own weight the remainder of the way to help. She appeared to be struggling, and Corinth could attempt to carry himself without leaning heavily on her. "I'm not sure how much your snares might catch, but I will take whatever you can offer." He said, stepping through the doorway with her aid and entering the cottage.

 

[LaPieta]

Almost forcibly, she drags him into the cottage, the hardwood floor smattering with his dripping blood, a floor that has seen much bloodshed and much lye. The inside is small, a single room within which lay a food preparation and dining area, a work-space containing a bench where various instruments of medicine and herbalism lay, and two beds against the walls, one untouched with fresh linens, the other covered with a hand-made blue quilt. A fire burned low in the hearth as she sits him down in the fresh bed, bringing a washcloth and bucket nearby.

"Well, Thorolund is a decent distance away from this village anyways. We're in the village of Barovia; about 300 miles from Talbrean, the nearest proper city."

She listens in shock as she puts water on the fire to boil, as her tools are gathered: sterilized bandages, a needle that the flames had licked, catgut, poultices. The wild garlic poultice she would normally use to prevent infection is left.

"You poor dear! I just don't understand how anyone could be so cruel to anyone! Let alone people who belong to the organization that supposedly values charity and kindness."

Her hand runs through his hair again straightening it before she begins to tie off the area surrounding the arrow punctures, as tight as she can.

"I'll go into town tomorrow, speak with the trapper and hunter, see what I can get in addition to my own traps. I can supplement that with my own blood if necessary."

The needle is threaded, the wounds prepared. Her scalpel is ready to slice neat incisions around the puncture wounds to ease the removal process; often tearing from a too-small exit would do far worse damage than cuts to expand the opening.

"This is going to be horribly painful, and somewhat risky. Do you know if milk of the poppy or other painkilling substances have any effect on you? If I can reduce the pain in any way, let me know."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth took in the sight of the room, familiar with the need for a single room house. It managed to fit so much into a small space, showing how good Ospina had been at managing the space within her home. As she doubled her house as a place for healing, Corinth would have assumed that her craft would have earned her a larger space, but there were those that were superstitious about healers. Their medicines were unnatural, or so the claim would go. This left a stigma on some healers, especially because of charlatans that had no business practicing real medicine.

Taking a seat on the bed that he was brought to, Corinth settled back, listening as Ospina recounted where he was at in the known world. Talbrean was far off course for where he had been meaning to be. Even then, he was 300 miles away from the city, buried away in an obscure part of the world. That would make sense, given the luck that Corinth had had up to this point.

"It is to be expected. Vampires are feared, and for good reason. I've taken lives, making me less innocent and a target for retribution." Corinth said, occasionally giving a faint exhale or inhale of complaint when some procedure she was doing would inflict a slight bit of harm. For a healer in their age, she had a good grip on the basics of proper medical care. Corinth had expected a much different, more ritualistic style to the care paid to him.

"Thank you. If any of your blood is required, it will be the last that I take. Your kindness toward me earns you my respect and decency, in return." He said. While he was not a fan of animal blood, finding the taste lackluster, it would slowly restore him to the strength he had once had.

Looking over to what she was planning to do, Corinth shook his head. "I'm no stranger to pain. Save your medicines for people of lesser constitution for pain." Corinth said, looking around the room. "If you have something suitable, I'd appreciate something I could bite down on." Corinth added, uncertain if she had anything that was suitable for such a purpose.

 

[LaPieta]

Ospina had suspected he had taken life before; the confirmation does not effect her current treatment plan, and was a discussion for when he was not a pincushion; he was still a person in need of aid, and she would help as best she could.

She bites her lip and nods, hoping that he wasn't trying to be cavalier regarding the painkiller; needless pain should generally be reduced if possible, she belieOspina saw little merit to certain views regarding hardship and suffering, that it built character, made one stronger. The physician had seen so much chronic pain that had shattered too many lives for her to put stock in such beliefs.

"Very well, but do not hesistate to change your mind if you have difficulty with it. No need for any bravado."

For now, she hands him a strip of leather to bite down upon, though she wondered whether it would be sufficient to keep from jaw or tooth damage given the inhuman nature of his teeth.

When the leather is secured, she counts down aloud so he may prepare, and when 0 is hit the incisions begin.

Her cuts are small, thin and precise, only what is necessary to prevent tearing when she would remove the arrows; she staunces the bleeding as best she can; the man seemed to have lost enough blood for two people. Her eyebrows scrunch at the site of the wounds: vicious red lines were emanating from the puncture sites. An blood infection appearing so soon was unusual, and would be horribly difficult to treat.

When everything is prepared, one hand goes to hold his; he would likely need something to grip, some human comfort to keep the pain from maddening him further. Another countdown is given before she pulls the first of the projectiles from his flesh.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth take the piece of leather that was offered to him, waving it in his hand a little before looking back to Ospina. "Whenever you're ready." He said, laying the leather strip across his teeth and lightly pressing down to hold it in place. While he despised the taste of leather, it was better to have something in his teeth than to have nothing at all. Healing bones and teeth, while doable, took far longer. There was also the importance of giving him something to distract him from the pain, because he knew it was going to hurt. Normally, arrows didn't leave him feeling this way, a suspicion he would investigate once the arrows were out.

The feeling of her scalpel, as he predicted, didn't inflict much pain on him. It did make him writhe a little in place as it trailed along the reddened skin around the site of the arrow. This was the first clue he had to what was going on. As a measure of increasing a vampire's endurance, their transformation, from Corinth's perspective, left them feeling less pain than they normally might. It was this reason that he'd decided against painkillers. What would be the point, when they were more useful for a human with a more tragic condition?

Feeling the warmth of her hand in his, Corinth shifts his hand to lightly squeeze at her, being mindful of his grip. When she braced to take the arrow out, the pain came. Biting down on the leather, his eyes went dark as they closed, the metal tip of the arrow coming out with a sickening sound. Corinth barely managed to keep himself from collapsing at a mixture of pain from the extraction, as well as the sudden relief of the arrow being removed.

Panting, his mouth falling open and the leather strap falling into his lap, Corinth opened his eyes. Before she could set the arrow aside, Corinth grabbed it from her hand, inspecting the ruby-tinted tip of the metal. "The bastards are learning." He said. His thumb was resting against the end of the arrow, just a few inches from the metal. It was also the point where his eyes were focused.

 

[LaPieta]

Ospina give him time to recover, keeping him from collapsing as best as she can before she lets him have the arrow, gently stroking his lower back to try and soothe him.

"Poison? Do you have any idea what sort it may be?" Well, venom, but the semantics were irrelevant. Thoughts whir through her mind as she tries to account for how manage the spread; her cutting to extract the arrows likely only made things worse, and few poisons had clear cut antidotes. Though the village had few snakes, there was still the occasional deadly bite, where all she could do to help was palliative care.

She moves to extract the second arrow, giving him time to prepare: the best she could do was try and ensure his comfort, keep him breathing and hydrated as the poison ran through his system. Hopefully his vampiric nature would keep him alive, inasmuch as he was alive.

The physician moves to extract the second arrow, giving him ample time to prepare.

 

[Vahn Seele]

With the arrow in hand, Corinth wiped the tip of the arrow against his shirt, revealing beneath it a layer of metal that was slightly brighter than normal. It was almost a faint glimmer of silver in certain twists of the light. "Not poison, well, not poison to you. Silvered weapons make my accelerated healing pointless." He said, tossing the arrow off to the side with a bit of effort.

"Best not to share that bit of knowledge with anyone, by the way. Silver has a way of making the supernatural more natural. Werewolves shot with arrows made of silver cannot recover, things like that. It puts us at an equal level to you." Corinth knew she wouldn't use this knowledge against him, but it was still something to be a little worried about sharing with a person that was not supernatural themselves.

As she moved to begin working on the other arrow that was stuck in him, Corinth could only assume it was, also, made of silvered tip. Laying the leather strip in his mouth again, Corinth closed his eyes and began to prepare for what was to come next. Now that he had felt the pain once, he'd know what to expect. He had opted to not take painkillers because of the perceived thought that the knights hadn't learned of the effect that silver has on supernatural bodies. They were almost done, though, and he'd be rid of the silvered pieces of metal soon enough.

 

[LaPieta]

She nods, a bit of relief trickling through her; his healing would likely accelerate once the last arrow was removed, and only trace amounts would linger in his system.

"I'll keep it to myself." Ospina states simply. Once he hadthe leather back in place, she gives one last countdown before pulling the thing; immediately after she begins the stitching.

Each suture is a tremendously delicate thing, comprised of almost-innumerable amount of tiny stitches to properly bring the flesh back together. The catgut thread had to be replaced thrice by the time the large slash is brought back together. From there, repairing the arrow wounds is a marginally simpler task, the red lines beginning to shrink back with the silver removed.

When the last of the stitches are tied off, the boiled water is taken along with a clean cloth to begin scrubbing the area; her touch is soft, patient and delicate as the dried blood gives way to reveal the pallor of his skin.

"I can draw and heat some water from the stream tomorrow for you to bathe properly, though we'll have to be careful about water getting on the wound."

The girl smiles at him as she finishes the washing, moving to retrieve some poultices of broadleaf plantain; many would be needed to properly cover the large slash.

"May I ask where you are from? It seems like you're far from home."

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth could already feel his body regaining some of its strength with part of the silvered weaponry yanked free of it. He should have come to suspect that something was off when he could barely keep himself standing without the aid of Ospina's body. Arrows had never been a problem to him in the past, but time would make sure he never made that mistake again. Turning his back to an armed human had nearly cost him his life.

As she removed the second arrow with the same sickening sound of suction, Corinth bit through the leather strap, growling out in very obvious pain. The sound of teeth coming together was a loud, harsh sound, Corinth learning his lesson. Even if he had come to expect the pain of the second pull, silvered weaponry was not something that could easily be endured.

Soon after the arrow was removed, Corinth began to feel his normal tolerance for pain begin to return. He barely would feel the needle as it would begin to sink into his skin, the pale flesh guided by her threading and binding together with simple enough effort. The warmth of the hot water against his wounds was calming, and the edges of the arrow wounds would soon begin to turn a normal pale, the blood that had flowed from them now merely a trickle at most.

At the question of his origin, Corinth looked over his shoulder toward her. "The province of Kavast, a port city by the name of Lindell. That's where I started from, actually. I've been traveling for years now, searching for knowledge and finding what wealth I can. I had planned to find a place to call my own, eventually, but the church and the war have made it difficult for me to either travel or sit still. As you can imagine, being a vampire has made me stand out. While only rumors and folklore speak of my kind, people have always feared a man who lives among the night, let alone a creature by a different name." Corinth said, musing at the idea of a bath.

If he were to tell her the truth of who he was looking for, she'd only dig deeper. That was a wound that no medicine could ever heal.

 

[LaPieta]

"Lindell? I visited there once when I was quite young; my father had a trade deal to negotiate and wanted to make a holiday of it. I'm afraid all I remember is having these strange red fruits whose centers looked like they were filled with fish-eggs. Those parts would be eaten, the waxy outside disposed of; they were wonderfully tart and crunchy. My sister started pinching some of the seeds and the juice got all over our dresses. Mother was furious." A wan smile is given as she chitters of fays gone by, arranging the poultices upon the wounds.

Bandages are wrapped snugly about him, just about all of her supply used to twine around him to cover the wound. By the time it is done, he looks halfway mummified. Ospina begins to brew some willow bark tea; it would not be an eighth as effective a painkiller as milk of the poppy, nor was it particularly suited towards wound pain, but it may help him with some aches. And if it was inedible to him, it would still be tasty for her.

"You poor soul; you don't deserve to be treated with such fear because of factors beyond your control. Hunted merely because of your nature, because most aren't willing to even try and understand."

Unfortunately, society had quite the habit of ostracizing anyone remotely different, let alone a person that may be of another species entirely.

"But you can stay home as long as you wish, I'll help you get back on your feet as best I can, and am willing to teach if the knowledge I possess is of interest to you. I'm unsure how you went about gathering wealth, but when you're ready to move on, I have an old dress, a fine silken thing we can sell to get you some funds."

Though she was loathe to let go of that piece of her past, she could accept it if it was going to help someone in need.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth smiled as he watched her talk. It was strange to have a conversation with someone who was not afraid of him. Perhaps she was afraid, but did not let it show. Whether this was true or not, Corinth gave her the courtesy of listening, finding himself curious to know more of what her family had been like. As Corinth had lived for barely thirty years, he had family that still lived in some regions. If he were to see them, though, they would learn of his new status in life and despise him for it.

Watching as she would apply the supply of bandages, Corinth moved his arms and leaned how would best help her to apply the poultices to his skin. Corinth wanted to tell her that it was not necessary, that his body would heal on its own once the poison of the metal had fully leeched from his system. If she were to use the poultices, though, it would make his healing that much faster. The shorter the time he spent there, the more likely that her kindness would be rewarded with his swift departure.

"People have a right to fear me and my kind. We are literal leeches on man. There are not many among my kind who would take animal blood and be happy about it." Corinth explained. "If you could survive on something that tasted bland, but had the option for something richer and sweeter, you'd be tempted to take the better meal. With vampires, that conscience that stops some burns away, leaving only greed and hunger." Corinth said.

At the offer of letting him stay there, Corinth gave her a nod. "Staying here is enough of a gift. I have stored money in various towns in the region, investing in merchants and coming by, on occasion, to collect on my owed debt. I offer them a chance to buy better goods with my coin, and they pay me a small bit of interest." He said, grinning at the concept. "I know there are those in kingdoms who setup treasuries to do this same thing, but some merchants cannot afford their rate." As with most stories, this was a partial truth. The origin of some of the money came from working bounties, often taking on work to settle scores. Corinth had adopted a policy of never asking why. He was given free blood, without the requestor knowing, and he received money. It worked for the first few years of his travel, allowing him to build this small network of merchants who carried a debt to him.

 

[LaPieta]

"But you are your own person; you are who you choose to be. And is it not more admirable for one to overcome evil instincts to do good, rather than simply not having those instincts? You're capable of continuing your existence without killing people; your nature is not inherently evil, and you should not be treated as such."

A wry smirk is given as he explains his profession. "Usury is rarely looked kindly upon in these parts; many of those sorts prey upon the most vulnerable. Leeches, as it were. I'm glad you do not target the desperate."

A yawn emerges from her as they continue to chat, the birds beginning to chirp melodically. Her eyes widen as the realization hits her; she jerks upright and begins to scamper about the cottage, gathering every spare linen she had and shuttering the windows.

"I'm sorry, the time got away from me! We have to hurry, I think I have enough cloth to stuff inside any crack the light may seep through." The door and windows are soon sealed, cloth stuffed under the gap beneath the door and any lingering spaces in the windows. Her own bed had to be stripped of the quilt, but the only light within the cottage was that from the dimming hearth.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth listened as she spoke. While it was true what she said, that evil can be overcome, Corinth always considered himself the lesser evil of what he was brought into. While he tried not to drink blood from humans he did not have a contract for, he had taken his fair share of life to build his small amount of wealth he had invested in traveling merchants. "That likely will be a point of philosophy we may debate over the next day." Corinth said, in mention to the concept of evil.

Once he had acquired his wealth, Corinth had made a point to only offer his money to those that could afford to pay him. In truth, all of the debts owed to him had been documented in a book he had lost when the knights had taken him. The script had been written in a language none of them would understand, keep those he had worked with protected from what he was.

At the mention of the light, Corinth stands and begins to move about the cottage, carrying any linens he could find to help her with keeping the sunlight away from his skin. If not for the chirping of the birds, Corinth would have likely been undone, putting her hard work to be disintegrated along with him. With the last of the spots covered, Corinth looked to her with thanks. "As long as it does not touch me, I will be fine. It might have been easier, though, to conceal me in a closet or under a bed, rather than cover your house in cloth." Corinth said, moving to take a seat on the bed, exhaustion starting to hit him as his body knew what time it was getting to.

"I should rest. The sooner I am asleep, the sooner I can recover some of my strength." Corinth said, moving to lay down on the bed that she had helped to treat him on.

 

[LaPieta]

The girl nods, helping arrange the covers so he'd be comfortable. Though the quilt that covered the patient bed was not made by her, it was still a cozy, well-stitched thing of soft pink patches. With her patient taken care of, the exhaustion of 24 hours without sleep begins to hit her; a yawn is stifled as she ducks behind her workbench to change in a pale white nightgown.

With that, she settles into her now quilt-less bed, wrapping the sheets about her. Hopefully she'd be able to get a small nap in before the chickens woke her. From there, she would feed them and check her trap line, as well as make the trip into town. Sleep takes her, as deep and soft as meadowgrass, as if there wasn't a creature that subsisted on human blood barely 12 feet away. Tomorrow would be busy.

 

[Vahn Seele]

As Corinth would drift off, he would feel the warmth of the blanket that came to rest across him. Normally, with the sun up, it is hard for any vampire to remain awake. Those that have lived for centuries may have developed some tolerance for it, but, even without the presence of sunlight, it was a chore to keep awake.

For him, though, sleep did not last. As Ospina would head off to sleep, a gnawing thought would filter into his mind. Feed... Much as he had heard her heart beat from down the path, he could hear her heart pulsing across the room. The steady drum beat threatened to draw him in, to take what he needed to fully heal. Why wait, when he could be whole in a matter of minutes?

Getting up off of his bed, Corinth's steps would be slow and quiet, his predatory instincts to move without a sound taking over as he stood, slowly moving over to where Ospina was sleeping. Looking at her, his eyes could see the visible pulse in her neck, its tempo a siren's song that promised a feeling of being full, complete. Tearing his eyes away, Corinth chastised himself mentally. His return to her kindness was to want to drain her? Even after all she had said about not being inherently evil? If she only knew.

Moving back to his bed, Corinth gathered the quilt and brought it to her, laying it carefully over her from shoulder to feet. He didn't deserve her kindness. If it were not for the sun that was looming outside, Corinth would leave. With her covered, Corinth moved back to lay on his bed, now bare as he rolled to lay on his side, facing his back to her. Instead of focusing his ears on the drum of her heart, Corinth turned his attention to sounds outside of the cottage. If he listened closely enough, he could hear the sound of a stream trickling in the distance. Keeping his focus on that, Corinth forced himself to sleep, his knees curling up to his chest as he pressed his face against his knees. Though it was faint, a small trickle of a tear could be seen in his eye.

Was this what she had gone through?

 

[LaPieta]

Ospina snuggles happily into the quilt as it is draped over, oblivious to the internal debate Corinth had experienced.

Her slumber is brief, however; the chickens had gotten ornery that their breakfast was late and were making their displeasure known. With bleary eyes she dresses, a simple work dress of mossy green homespun, and exits carefully, making sure not a single sunbeam reaches inside the house.

With their breakfast distributed, she stores the few eggs for her larder and gathers a small coinpurse kept tucked away under a floorboard.

It is only after the abrupt awakening and initial rush that she realizes he had given her his quilt. A small smile paints her face as she gathers it up and places it over his form, the deathly stillness of him unnerving. For as much as he thought himself a wicked thing, he had a soft heart to him.

From there she makes the journey to town, purchasing all the intact animal carcasses she could carry. When asked, she explains that she was going to dry and smoke and salt all the meat for the upcoming winter; while not the primary purpose of them, it was still a function they would likely serve. She still hated having to lie.

The whole endeavor had taken much of the day, her rounds taken care of after the various fuzzy beasts had been brought back to her home. But she gets back safely, with enough time before he woke to have a small meal.

 

[Vahn Seele]

Corinth would let his mind finally slip away into sleep, the warmth of the sun's rays kept far away from him within Ospina's home. Though he had trouble getting to sleep, the feeling of it finally taking hold had felt like bliss compared to the days he had spent, starving in the carriage and bound in chains he could not break.

There were other thoughts that came to mind as he slept, many of them falling back to Ospina and the small amount of time they had shared. The help she had done to stitch his wounds, the offer of human blood, they were all kindnesses that he still felt guilt over. The faint screams of people that he had murdered, draining them on a mixture of survival and convenience. The sins that he had piled up in the last thirty years would have made a priest run in fear, and not just because he was a vampire.

Through all that, there would come a small silence, a quilt to push the darker thoughts away, Corinth pulling it taut to his form as he felt it begin to silence the shrill cries and the accusations, some of them in his own voice.

Once it would draw closer to evening, the stranglehold of sleep would slowly loosen on him, Corinth slowly beginning to stir and his eyes slowly opening, his hand clenched tightly in the quilt that had been returned to him. Leaning down, Corinth took a light smell of it, able to pick up on Ospina's scent. This made him hug it tighter to his face, eyes closed as he committed that to memory.