Sebastian EllingtonI need to feel you again, feel my lips on your skin
for one night I could be him, no, I could be better
The vampire had to admit that he was intrigued by those events that had led to his maker's lack of sanity and, in turn, his own creation, even if they hardly provided him that closure he hadn't fully realized he was looking for. For years it had thwarted him, that inquiry as to why he was made. Why she had left him there upon those cobblestone streets in London. Much less if she had even truly cared for that life she'd stolen and thrust into the world of the undead. He'd eventually come to terms with that lack of knowledge - at least, until he'd stumbled upon her within that forest. That connection between them had been near instantaneous for the vampire. He'd simply known without question who she was, hell, he'd remembered her with such clarity and she had regarded him with such a blank stare that it'd prompted all those things he'd thought he'd accepted back into the forefront of his mind. He listened to that tale she wove of the soul who'd so demolished that estate she'd once lived within, taking with it everything she held dear. Truly, he found it curious this traitor she spoke of had so dutifully served his King only to rebel with such vengeance against the childlike woman before him. His lips pressed together in thought and yet, was tracking this man down really worth all of that effort it would surely require? Even if he could, what would he do if he did?

It was that mention of a woman, however, that drew his thoughts from that dismal place, prompting the vampire to inquire exactly after whom she was speaking of. After all, if this woman was anything like them, there was a good chance of her still being alive - wasn't there? What if that was the very turning point for his maker? Finding her? "Is she still with him?" He inquired, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as he contemplated that task of what was ahead of him. Unfortunately, the conversation was interrupted by the presence of that stewardess as she strolled down the aisle, presenting the pair of vampires with those two glasses and the blood that caused his own nose to wrinkle ever so slightly. It was no secret their kind preferred a source entirely fresh and yet, Sebastian knew well that he could not afford to be choosey, particularly when the child would surely drain every drop from the stewardess that he would safely allow her to. A soft sigh left his lips as he too eyed that hungry look that crossed the girl's features, so prompting those instructions from the young woman brave enough to see for their care.

His gaze remained wholly intent upon the youthful appearing vampire as that stewardess moved to follow his instructions. He was altogether aware of each movement his maker made, his own body tensing as the French girl approached that woman to rebuke her for her choice in where she intended to draw that blade. He was altogether prepared to intervene and yet, Anna-Marie's rather abrupt slicing of her wrist only prompted a small shake of his head. "You're bloody impossible." He Englishman muttered to himself and yet, even he had to admit this was a step above her usual antics. He hardly bothered to scold the child, instead plucking one of those goblets from the table before him. He watched briefly as the young woman nearly ran from them the moment Anna-Marie had released her grasp, the man instead remaining where he was to sip with a glimpse of dissatisfaction at the reheated blood within his glass. His blue eyes briefly met those like colored ones of the young woman's own before she turned abruptly back towards her dollhouse and though Sebastian thought the conversation was over, he was near surprised to discover the girl continued where they left off - on the topic of her.

His eyebrows furrowed at the child's admittance that she had been 'like him', so alluding to that relationship between the pair. So then, he was not the first Anna-Marie had made. This knowledge, however, failed to truly satisfy him. After all, it hardly gave any sense of purpose to his own death and yet...maybe if he found her, he could return Anna-Marie to her side and rid himself of this portion of his life in the same way he had for the past two hundred years. A small frown crossed his lips in consideration as his gaze turned away from her before, rather softly, the man commented, "I don't think that's anything you have to worry about anymore, Anna-Marie." Weather or not he was commenting on the girl's demeanor and her likelihood to be tricked or the possibility of himself being taken away from her, however, remained to be seen.