tsaritsa avatar

by

There's a certain pleasure in turning heads. In walking past and knowing they're looking at you. As they should. Even though it's practically subconscious, it doesn't matter. The sharp set of your jaw and the predatory gleam in your eye just draw them further in. What a perfect thing evolution is, they practically throw themselves at your feet.

They don't know what a wonderful thing they have. Vitality oozes off them, the scent is intoxicating. Their lives are fleeting, true, but oh so incredibly vivid and bright.

Whoever said our kind could live off animal blood alone was an idiot.

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