Arlo James

See what it's like to be a vulture's lunch

He remains content to stay where he is, between the vampire and that entangled canine, his teeth flashed ever so briefly to the Hunter Woman in some hope she might heed his warning and leave him to his victim. If she was only going to toy with the dog then what did it matter if he had a turn? She was spilling that beautiful blood all over the ground, how truly wasteful that was! Either kill the dog or leave it, but there was hardly a need to let it bleed out when he too could benefit. Perhaps it was greedy of him to seek seconds and yet there was something so....alluring about that blood. He was hardly full from his rather displeasing human meal and yet even if he had been the scent and sight of that blood called to him like nothing else. Maybe if he was older....maybe then he would maintaining some control as his Maker had- capable of turning away from blood when he simply required no more and yet while Arlo had surely developed the ability to control his hunger for the most part- when presented with that blood before him, hot and tasty and wasted upon the earth, flowing so liberally from an opened vein- that predatory nature so glorious roared to life. Even his own need for self-preservation, a need so potent in Arlo in particular, seemed to lessen. The man willing to bare his fangs at a Hunter for that meal. Dog was hardly ideal, hardly what he craved and yet he was hardly capable of ignoring it all the same. The knife lifted towards him seeing a hiss of sorts rise to his throat unbidden, Arlo wavering a moment, attempting to decide how worth his time and potential injury this meal was and yet with that blood already coursing in his veins, he was stronger....bolder then he might have otherwise been.

Whatever words he might have been about to offer are cut off as she slices her shirt, fashioning a wrap of sorts for that bleeding arm, those azure eyes following her every action with a want he could hardly deny. Her blood smelled so....superior to that of the dog, Hunter a meal he had only ever tried once and while still not his most favoured meal it was a truly close second, equal with that all-too glorious Fae blood that was almost intoxicating even when stolen from other vampires. His lips press together I a thin, firm line, biting down as if locking his jaw might somehow lessen that want, a scoff of sorts upon his lips.

"I don't care for your wound, Hunter Girl. Your blood smells delectable, I'm trying to save you from myself. The man was not satisfying in the least, his blood was tainted....but yours isn't."

It was a distinctly honest answer all the same, Arlo supressing something almost akin to a growl. He had to stop himself, he had to control himself, a hunter was no weakling Were or terrified human. He was not a murderer, he refused to be and yet it was so hard, so hard when she was bleeding. His hands balling into fists with the effort. He was better than this...he had to be. A sudden cry from the dog behind him saw his own eyes turn, distracted briefly as that knife somehow lifted out of the dogs side, slicing through his net, releasing it, jaws lunging at him- his newly fed form seeing those reflexes ignite. Arlo leaping backwards to avoid those teeth before the dog bolted, the Hunter in pursuit- the woman very near colliding with him as she ran past. He steps back almost hurriedly to avoid the woman, watching the pair as they race down the street, his own form following at a distance once more, following that blood trail. He was pushing his luck, terribly so and yet he was almost powerless not too as he rounded that dumpster and box-filled alleyway. What was with this Hunter Girl? Was she trying to save the WereDog's soul? Arlo pausing in the mouth of the alleyway once more, his features still concealed save for those bright eyes.

"She is behind the third dumpster on the left- I can smell her."

Why shouldn't he help? Maybe she might let him have the dog then and yet....god that wound on her arm was delicious, soaking through the fabric, teasing him, taunting him, Arlo hardly an old vampire- he so prided that control and yet he was a slave to it still. He been so good for months now...months. Yet both the dog and the Hunter were distracted once more how easy it would be. That affinity flares to life readily once more, that net of webbing this time fired directly at the back of the Hunter woman- aiming entirely to ensnare her in that net and pin her to the wall, a second net fired at the dog the moment the Huntress was clear. The Were shifting to her human form only to end up stuck to the wall beside the Hunter Woman- unable to decide who she feared more now, wild eyes flicking from the Hunter to himself and back.

"You can talk to the dog now, look, she changed back."

His own form strides forward now, one hand reaching to snatch that knife from the Hunter Womans hand, dropping it to the ground, placing his foot upon it to keep it down- the way it had floated before hardly missed. Arlo pausing now to consider his options. Eyes resting on the WereDog at last.

"Why don't you tell the Huntress why you were killing the people or what not while I have a snack, I won't kill either of you, don't worry I just cant ignore....that. I'm hardly a bad person I promise."

He was very nearly salivating, his voice holding something almost akin to guilt, that smooth baritone uttered softly into the darkness as his warm fingers reached for the Hunter Woman's bleeding arm, fingers plucking delicately at that wrapping around it, pushing it aside to expose that wound- assuring himself she was (hopefully) secured before his lips parted, tongue brushing along the length of that knife wound to lick at that blood. A sound of satisfaction rising within his throat, Arlo entirely preparing himself to bite and force his own vampiric venom into her system, his saliva almost akin to a sedative in a fashion- his victims forced into a state of calm with just one bite and yet first he was determined to lick clean all that excess blood. The world itself falling away in the wake of that taste. Even the soft sobbing of the Weredog ignored.

"Damn, you taste nice."



((Feel free to have anything you like happen here haha, she is totally welcome to escape or get bitten or anything you prefer XD ))