leila

Leila hardly saw a need to answer what she was. After all, fae were often a thing to be coveted, collected, even, by certain parties of the vampire variety. Rather, she was far more willing to answer her victim's inquiry on her clear aptitude with sharp pointy things. Her shoulders lifted in a blithe shrug. "You know how it is, everyone has something they're good at. Mine just happens to be this." Leila paused, the woman's head tilting to the side as another thought entered her mind. "Hm, I suppose I could have done a scalpel...that might have fit the theme more." She mused more to herself than her present company. Fortunately, the man before her was quick to draw her attention back to the present moment as he leapt to his feet, clearly trying to put distance between the pair of them - as if it might somehow save him from the knives she was capable of wielding so expertly. Her manicured brow rose as he insisted they'd simply have to disagree. It was almost as if he thought he had a choice in the manner! A light, airy giggle left her lips as Leila shrugged loosely, "A vampire does have to eat." She answered, almost enjoying teasing him in this game that he was most certainly going to lose.

The very mention of her vampire daughter seemed to produce some level of empathy within him, one that Leila was quick to capitalize on as she informed him of how terribly awful it was to lose one's child to the demons of the night - as if said 'demon' was not her own husband. His apology was answered with a soft, almost wistful sigh, the fae's demeanor capable of shifting with but the passing breeze as she reflected upon that fateful evening. "I appreciate the sentiment." She answered woefully, as if it might somehow bring Morgan back to life. Though really, her daughter would have utterly hated that. She'd all but begged to be turned. Harassed them both of weeks on end till Leila thought she might pull her hair out if she heard those pleas one more time! But - now was not the time to be dwelling on that. After all, there was food to procure - food that planned to help her with a utterly delightful suggestion, albeit in an attempt to save his own skin. Still! If Leila was capable of producing that meal she'd promised her undead family, what did she care where she got it from? A handsome alive man certainly had...other uses. A ecstatic beam flushed her fair features as she clapped her hands in glee, the knife all but disappearing as she quickly cobbled together some vague sort of plan - ignoring the intricacies of how exactly they intended to get the blood bags and where they were located and all those unfun details that surely could be puzzled out on the fly. Hospitals and their pesky procedures!

Leila watched with bated breath as the man before her stared at her for several long moments, only to slowly nod in agreement. "Fantastic! Now why don't you take a seat on the bed and...well...try to look more hurt and upset then you are, okay?" She made her way towards the door, pulling it open only to pause in the entryway, her gaze narrowing as she turned back towards him, "...you better be here when I get back." Leila informed him, the glee from her voice all but vanishing in that moment, "Don't make me chase you, I promise, it'll end far worse...for you." She flashed him an easy smile before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind her. Her step was brisk and purposeful as she made her way towards the nurses station, her demeanor shifting as easily as the ever changing tides as a look of exasperation settled upon her fair features. "Hey, can I get some help in room 13? There's a man there that needs some stitches and he's acting like the world is ending. He won't sit still for me."

She was hardly unprepared for the looks of skepticism she received from the resident nurses. "Um...who are you?"

Leila glanced down at the name tag she stole, "Deborah, I'm a traveling nurse, they called me in and said you guys were short staffed?" That always eased their suspicions. There wasn't a hospital in the world that wasn't short staffed. She was unsurprised by the round of 'about time', 'they finally listened', and other comments muttered beneath their breath before one older woman stepped around the counter to join her in the hallway. "I'll help you. What's his name?" Leila paused in her step - that was a question she hadn't asked. One she certainly should have if she intended to take the boy home. "Ah...Mr...Smith." Yes. That sounded perfectly...drab. The nurse ahead of her nodded as she led the way into the room - pressing open the door to reveal the wounded man. That's your cue, Mr. Smith.